


The Guys You Don't See Until They're Suddenly In Power

by BatBlade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergent, Intelligence - Freeform, Logic, Manipulation, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Multi, Out of Character, Politics, for ooc im not too sure but ill just label it as that for now, gray characters, power, short paragraphs on abuse, slytherin tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 61,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatBlade/pseuds/BatBlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-indulgent fic.</p><p>AU where the characters I like actually have common sense and behave like normal people and everyone else is ridiculous. Fred and George are actual developed characters here i love myself</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Malfoy Manor

“Bloody Potter and his stupid broom and his stupid Gryffindors. _Youngest seeker in over a century._ Pah! _Saint Potter_ ,” Draco snorted, doing a daring roll-over. He released the well-worn Quaffle from his fingers and let it fly towards the centre goalpost.

The enormous white peacock roosting in it let out an indignant squawk as it flew off. Draco sat atop his broom, panting in exhaustion and irritation. He fetched the Quaffle, flew back to the grounds of Malfoy Manor and trudged in, holding his broom over his shoulder and his Quaffle under his arm. 

A ragged-looking house elf appeared behind Draco and wiped up his muddy footprints as he stomped towards his bedroom. As Draco passed the library, he jumped back in shock as a tall figure robed in black stepped into his path.

Draco looked up and backed away when he saw the manic happiness displayed on Lucius Malfoy’s face. _Oh dear, I’m in for it now_ , he thought sullenly as Lucius spotted him and his mouth turned down into the patented Malfoy scowl.

“Draco,” his father drawled, eyeing his muddy form distastefully, “Has your year at Hogwarts amongst the Mudbloods led you to experiment?”

Draco looked down at his muddy Quidditch robes and stated tonelessly, “I was practicing Quidditch.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow in condescension, “ _Ah_ … _yes_ . I should _hope_ you bring the Malfoy name pride and excel at _something_ , since you have failed to do well academically.”

Draco puffed up indignantly, “I was second only to that mudblood Granger -”

Lucius cut in coldly, “You have told me this multiple times, Draco. It is not a good excuse. We are the cream of society, allowing _Mudbloods -_ ” Lucius sneered in disgust,  “- to best you in anything _remotely_ Wizarding is a shame to your family. I hope that your next term in Hogwarts brings better news.”

With that, Lucius swept away towards his study, but not before Draco’s sharp eyes caught him subtly slipping a small, black book into his inner robe pockets. Draco stood there for a moment, trying to get his raging emotions under control. He startled as a House Elf appeared beside his knee.

“Master Draco? Will yous be taking off yous shoes?”

Draco looked down at the pillow-cased House Elf - Dobby if he remembered right - and snarled half-heartedly, “I do as I please, Elf. Now be quiet if you’re going to follow me.”

Dobby gulped and nodded fearfully and stood aside as a melodic voice called out.

“Draco, darling, whatever are you standing here for?” Narcissa Malfoy called as she elegantly swept down the corridor.

“Mother? Shouldn’t you be having tea at the Parkinson's?” Draco asked through concealed worry. Narcissa Malfoy would _never_ let anything interrupt her social activities. Narcissa smiled benignly, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and that was when Draco started to _really_ worry.

“Your father called me here on important business. I must be going now Draco, run along,” she said, before fondly caressing his head and sweeping off.

Draco frowned but turned around, just as Narcissa called softly, “And Draco dear? Do be quiet when you do so.”

Draco took his mother’s blessing for what it was: permission to follow her discretely. He looked at Dobby, who was cleaning up the flecks of mud Draco left behind as he moved. Catching the Elf’s eyes, he put a finger to his lips and padded as silently as he could towards his father’s study.

Draco leaned in at the door, pleased that whatever it was, Lucius had been in such a hurry he didn’t cast Silencing charms. He listened to his father’s excited whispers.

“... - _back_ _Cissa! I found the artifact the Dark Lord gave me for safekeeping. This seemingly useless book_ \- _it gave me instructions from the Dark Lord himself! He wrote to me when I wrote in it.”_

_“Lucius… you cannot really think the Dark Lord is back? He was vanquished to nothing by the Potter boy!”_

_“There was never a body Narcissa. This book of the Dark Lord’s, it contains magic so powerful that it must be his way of communicating. He proved it - talked to me of how he recruited my father to his side. It’s all him, Narcissa. And he seeks a way back to us. I must follow these instructions, and you will help me. I must get this book to Hogwarts.”_

Draco went pale at the implication as his mother paused. Lucius was either desperate or he wanted to use Draco if he was asking Mother for help.

_“Very well, Lucius. But not through Draco. I will not allow you to use him, for fear of retribution to the Malfoy name if he was caught.”_

Draco almost couldn’t contain his sigh of relief. Lucius waved her concern away impatiently.

“ _Yes, yes, of course. We shall have to make a trip to Diagon Alley to pass off this book to a student. The Dark Lord told me - he told me he would reopen the Chamber of Secrets, like he did when he was in school. He will unleash the monster within, as the Heir of Slytherin, kill all the Mudbloods and bring himself back to the Wizarding world.”_

_“But what about the children? Draco will be in school while this happens - will this monster hurt him?”_

_“The Dark Lord promised he would only kill the Mudbloods,"_  Lucius dismissed, " _Don’t worry, Cissa. Everything will be as it was before, and the purebloods will rule the Wizarding world. And the Malfoys! Oh - the Malfoys will be the right-hand to the Dark Lord. Just you wait Cissa, just you wait.”_

Draco had heard enough. Pale and shaking, he ran up to his room, brushing past the frozen Elf by his side. Throwing his broom and Quaffle carelessly onto his bed, he stripped quickly and stepped into the shower, scrubbing off the dirt and grime and the lingering feeling of horror from his eavesdropping session.

Draco leaned against the shower wall, letting the water run over him and soothe him. He closed his eyes.

“My father is crazy,” he muttered to himself, “My father is _crazy_ and believes the Dark Lord is back. My father is in possession of a dark artifact that belonged to the Darkest wizard to ever grace the Wizarding world. Okay.”

Draco ran his fingers through his wet hair and then clenched his fists over his eyes.

“My father is plotting to bring the Dark Lord back through this Dark artifact by giving it to a student, who may or may not be killed by it, even though Mother is running interference. And the stupid book can open a - a what? A Chamber of Secrets. And then a monster controlled by the Heir of Slytherin - the Dark Lord - will be let out and potentially kill all the students, including me. Right.”

Draco opened his eyes, shut off the water and dried himself. He dressed quickly in his robes and sat on the edge of his pristine green bed, staring at the wall. He turned his head to the corner of his huge room, and looked at his reflection in the standing mirror. His reflection looked at him pityingly, "Oh honey."

He nodded to himself, ignoring his mirror.

“Right. I’m going to do something.”


	2. The Library

Narcissa Malfoy smoothed her hands over her dress as she briskly, yet gracefully, walked to the front hall to receive her tea guests. She passed by the Library, a fond smile gracing her face when she saw Draco reading. She continued on and noted the weather outside was pleasant, a good day for flying. She halted, shoes squeaking against the marble floor - a most unusual gesture for the ever graceful Lady Malfoy.

She picked up her skirts and jogged to the library, where, true to form, Draco was reading instead of flying. She walked in and sat next to Draco - who looked up briefly from the ancient tome he was reading to flash her a smile. She observed him for some time through suspicious eyes and eventually, Draco looked up at her inquiringly.

“Draco,” she said cautiously, “Might I wonder what you’re doing in here - reading - when it's perfectly beautiful weather for flying outside? Were you not practicing to attain a position on the Slytherin Quidditch team?”

Draco looked out the Library window sorrowfully, “Yes, but I have things to do.”

Narcissa caught her son’s eye, and no words needed to be spoken to ask her question and receive an answer. She phrased her next words carefully.

“Of course, darling. I must be going. Vicenza Zabini and Haneul Parkinson aren’t very patient ladies.” _Parkinson and Zabini are here._

“Of course, Mother. I do hope they haven’t brought their children?” _Don’t want Pansy or Blaise to know._

“I doubt you will be disturbed by them. Carry on, dear, it’s a delight to see you working so hard.” _Won’t let them disturb you, carry on._

Narcissa stood and walked past the bookshelves, tapping on random books with manicured fingernails as Draco watched her. She paused at one and with a flick of her wand, floated it to Draco. She left the room with a sweep of her silken skirts.

“I think you’ll enjoy this one, dear. A very good read.”

Draco took the book from the air as his mother closed the Library doors behind her. _Aensyent Beests of Magick,_ Draco read curiously. He opened to the Index.

 _Acromantula, Ashwinder, Augurey, Basilisk, Bicorn - this will take a while._ Draco grimaced, but dutifully opened the book.

_“An Acromantula is a species of giant spide… inhabits dense jungles. Acromantulas are believed to be a wizard-bred species, designed to guard dwellings or treasure hoards… These giant spiders with a taste for human flesh...”_

_Possible_ , Draco thought. He skipped the various descriptions and went on to the next creature.

_“The Ashwinder is a serpent that is created from the remains of any magical fire that is allowed to burn unchecked. As it is a serpentine creature, the Ashwinder may very well be susceptible to Parseltongue magic.”_

“ _Serpents_ . That’s it. Slytherin was a Parselmouth, his heir’s probably one too,” Draco mumbled. He read on about the Ashwinder, but found they “ _only live for an hour and will collapse to dust when they have laid their eggs”._

That wasn't it, then.

_“The Augurey, also known as the Irish Phoenix -”_

Nope. Draco flipped the page and - ah, this looked promising.

_“The Basilisk is a giant serpent, also known as the King of Serpents. It is a creature bred by Dark Wizards...”_

King of Serpents. Sounded like something Salazar Slytherin would keep.

_“The Basilisk can grow up to fifty feet in length… eyes have the power to instantly kill anyone who looks into them… Basilisks can live a natural life of at least nine hundred years -”_

“Draco.”

Draco blanched and slammed the book shut unceremoniously, looking up as Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway, looking at his son with cold regard and impatience.

“I am in need of the Library. Alone. Leave.”

Draco hurried to keep the books back where they came from, as Lord Malfoy strode past him and to the nearest book shelves - ignoring his son. Draco walked briskly from the room - _Malfoys never run,_ his father’s voice sneered in his head - and he was barely past the door before they slammed shut and locked.

Draco summoned an Elf and told it to get his broom while he walked to the half-sized Quidditch pitch on the grounds of the Manor. The Elf was back in seconds and Draco immediately mounted the broom, shooting into the sky.

As he flew rounds around the pitch, he contemplated what he knew. Salazar Slytherin was widely renowned for being a Parselmouth, everyone knew that. All his descendants had been Parselmouths, up until the line ended with the Gaunt family - any pureblood would cringe at the lengths the Gaunts went through to keep their blood pure and the Parselmouth trait solely in their family.

He would have to go back and read the book again, make a copy of the information. But why the _hell_ would Father condone having a giant _snake_ wandering around the school? Did the pureblood children mean so little to him? Did Draco mean so little to him? He gritted his teeth and pushed harder against the wind, tamping down on the utter sadness that threatened to overwhelm him. He focused again.

It had to be a Basilisk, Draco couldn’t see it being anything else. The ability to live for hundreds of years, the fact that it was a bloody huge snake and that Slytherin and his descendants were all Parselmouths. Only a Parselmouth would be able to speak to the serpent.

Draco would have to get all the information he could on the Basilisk. He’d have to hide this knowledge from his father, who was so insane he’d probably sacrifice Draco to the Dark Lord just to show his devotion. He would keep this information close to heart for now, like his mother, and wait for things to be set in motion before he volunteered it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my totally radical beta reader, savingstrider.tumblr.com for making me consider if Lucius Malfoy should be a raging lunatic or a not-so-cold-hearted bastard. But for the sake of the story, he is currently a raging lunatic. Check out his tumblr.


	3. The Dursleys

“I didn’t even mean it literally! It’s a figure of speech -”

“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU,” thundered Vernon Dursley, spraying spit all over Harry, “ABOUT SAYING THE ‘M’ WORD IN MY HOUSE.”

“Okay, okay! I won’t say it again. Promise.”

Vernon sat back down and clenched his meaty fist around his knife. Harry eyed it and backed away, gulping. He kept his eye on Vernon throughout the meal as Harry prepared Dudley’s fourth helping of fried eggs.

After he’d repeated his plans listlessly  - _I will be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I don't exist -_ to the simpering Dursleys in preparation for Vernon’s business deal dinner, he went out to the garden and stared at nothing in particular. He was to keep away from the house until Petunia called him back in and sent him to his room.

He suddenly felt as though he was being watched, trained as he was from Harry Hunting, and as his eyes came back into focus, he realised the bloody _hedge_ was _watching him_. Just as he was about to kick some sense into whatever the hell it was watching him, Dudley’s jeering voice floated out to him.

“I know what day it is,” he sang. Harry was too busy watching the hedge eyes blink and disappear.

“What?”

“I know what day it is,” Dudley repeated, coming right up to Harry and swinging around his massive belly.

Harry turned derisive eyes on him, “Oh, _well done_ Dudders, you’ve _finally_ learned the days of the week.”

Dudley ignored him and continued on, “Today’s your _birthday_. Haven’t got any cards, have you? Haven’t got any friends at that freak school o’ yours?”

“What would dear old Aunt Petunia say if she knew her sweetums was interested in my ‘freak school’,” Harry said innocently.

Dudley stuck two thumbs into his trousers and pulled them, stretching them to accommodate his fat arse.

“What’re you staring a’ the hedge for?” Dudley asked suspiciously.

“I’m trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire,” Harry said truthfully, recalling Seamus’ attempts at Charms work. He figured he could get away with a bit of accidental magic.

Dudley stumbled back at once, a look of panic crossing his chubby face.

“Y-You c-can’t! Dad’ll chuck you out! A-And he’ll _beat_ you first! A-And then _where_ will you go? Haven’t got no friends -”

“ _Eye of rabbit, clockwise turn_ ,” Harry chanted fiercely, recalling Ron trying to turn Scabbers yellow, “ _make this stupid hedge burn_.”

He got in trouble with Aunt Petunia of course, even though nothing happened. He ducked expertly when Aunt Petunia tried to hit him round the head with the heavy, metal, soapy frying pan - used to this treatment.

He hadn’t been fast enough to avoid it once when he was younger and he had spent the rest of the day in his cupboard with a terrible headache and blood-soaked hair. He knew now his magic had managed to heal him, but he didn’t want to go through that again.

Petunia gave him chores to do out in the garden. Under the blistering heat of the mid-day sun, he cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and re-painted the garden bench.

It was half-past seven in the evening before Petunia called him in for his second meal of the day.

“Eat quickly and then upstairs immediately. _Hurry up_!”

He washed up quickly and swallowed down his pitiful dinner of two slices of bread and a lump of cheese. He ran upstairs and into his bedroom - reluctantly given by the Dursleys after Harry threatened to use magic.

And then it all went to shit.

Harry got locked up in his room, his cover of being able to perform magic blown. _All because of stupid Dobby_ . He would _never_ have leverage over the Dursleys again, what with the letter from the Ministry. Vernon had beat him soundly, and his bruises were beginning to show up. His stomach growled and Hedwig squawked indignantly at the stale bread Harry tried to feed her.

He pleaded, “It’s all we’ve got. Come on. Please, or you’ll starve the rest of the summer.”

Hedwig eyed the bread distrustfully, but she must have understood Harry’s desperation to save his only friend and she dutifully ate the bread, nudging Harry’s hand affectionately through the bars of her cage.

Looking at his poor, beautiful owl all caged up and restless, Harry thought of Ron and Hermione, and of Hagrid, who never wrote to him at all this summer. He chuckled bitterly and was reminded of the great Dumbledore.

 _‘The greatest wizard ever_ ’, Dobby had called him. Where was he now? Comfortably set in Hogwarts - in the Wizarding world - eating his bloody lemon drops. Not giving _a rat’s arse_ about Harry getting beat up and starved by the Dursleys, oh _no_ . Dumbledore was too _busy_ running an empty school.

And then - in the middle of the night - his salvation came in the form of a flying Ford Anglia.

“ _Ron_ ? _Fred_ ? _George_ ? What are you _doing here_?”

“You never wrote back to us, mate. Had to see how our star Seeker was doing,” said Fred from the driver’s seat. George threw him a rope while Ron beamed at him from the passenger seat.

“Oi, tie that to the bars will you Harry? There’s a good lad.”

Ron asked incessant questions, “Bloody hell, mate, what’d you do to get _bars_ put on your window? Dad said you’d been sent a warning for doing magic. What’d you do eh? Hermione’ll go _mental_ if she knew. Mum keeps saying how the Muggles aren’t that bad and Dumbledore knows what he’s doing. But Fred and George thought it’d be fun to break you out, see if Mum was right.”

George snorted derisively from the back seat, “Do you ever shut up Ron? Or have you been talking to Granger so often she’s started to convert you into an insufferable git?”

Harry tied the ropes firmly around the bottom of the bar and while Ron argued with George, Fred shot upwards, slowly wrenching the metal bars away from Harry’s window. He drove the car back down and opened the boot.

Fred smacked Ron, “Oi Ronniekins, shut up. _Obviously_ the Muggles _are_ that bad.”

“Oi, Harry, mate, get your trunk in the boot,” George said airily.

Harry whispered hesitantly, “It’s downstairs. In my- I mean, in the cupboard. My broom’s there too.”

Fred and George looked up in horror and Harry shuffled about nervously. Fred whispered, “That’s a Nimbus 2000 they’ve got locked up! This is a catastrophe! Let’s go Georgie.”

Fred and George jumped out of the car and into Harry’s room. They walked cat-like and silent to the locked door and picked it with a hairpin. George grinned at Harry, “It’s good to know these Muggle tricks. It’s slow, but it’s better than being completely useless.”

They climbed down the stairs and Harry whispered to watch out for the last step. Harry packed his meagre wardrobe - consisting of exactly two huge shirts that used to be Dudley’s and a pair of torn and loose jeans - into the expanded boot of the Ford Anglia, ignoring Ron’s running commentary on anything and everything he saw.

Fred and George climbed back up with Harry’s things, Fred carrying his Nimbus and a couple of books and George with the trunk on his broad shoulder. They dumped the lot into the boot and Harry tucked Hedwig into the backseat. His escape from Privet Drive went without a hitch.

In the Ford, George picked the heavy lock on Hedwig’s cage and let her out. He then turned to an exhausted Harry, genuine concern etching his voice, “You alright, mate? You look pretty banged up.”

“It’s nothing. Just the Dursleys being the Dursleys.”

Ron excitedly told Harry all about what had been going on, refusing to let Harry sleep in his own excitement. Fred and George exchanged a look in the rearview mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my amazeballs beta savingstrider on tumblr. he's an amazing dude with skillz and I think if you like this story, drarry and wolfstar, and all things Harry Potter, you'll love his blog. Update every Monday!


	4. The Burrow

Harry felt terrible. In his eagerness to get away from the Dursleys, he hadn’t even considered where he would stay or where he would go. Molly Weasley definitely wasn’t pleased with his appearance at her home, yelling at Fred, George and Ron - but mainly the twins - who tried to persuade her into letting Harry stay.

“The Muggles were  _ terrible _ Mum!” argued Fred, “Put  _ bars _ on his window and his things all locked in this dingy cupboard downstairs -”

“They locked his  _ door _ too Mum -” began George but then Mrs Weasley raged and questioned, “And  _ how, exactly, _ did you get out of the door and into the supposed  _ locked _ cupboard?”

Harry stood there miserably for hours - Hedwig a comforting weight on his shoulder - as the twins and Mrs Weasley had a shouting match. Ron looked awed by the whole ghastly thing and whispered to Harry, “This is the first time I’ve seen Fred and George fight with Mum. Bill and Mum used to have fights like this before he shipped off to Egypt.”

Harry felt even worse after that. 

Just as Mrs Weasley was about to floo Dumbledore to take Harry home, Mr Weasley popped into the front yard and opened the door wearily. He took in the bizarre sight of his twin sons fighting with their mother and immediately raised his voice.

“ _ Molly! Fred, George!  _ What’s going on _? _ ”

The usually cheery Weasley patriarch glared tiredly at everyone, earning guilty looks from Mrs Weasley and the twins. But Fred and George wouldn’t let their mother sway their father’s opinion this time - not on this.

“Dad! We took the car and flew it to Harry’s place -”

“- and he was _ locked up _ in his room -”

“- the muggles put him there -”

“- and they were  _ starving _ him Dad -”

“- kept all his things under lock and key -”

“- and we couldn’t just  _ leave him there,  _ look at him -”

“- so we brought him home and -”

“- mum’s trying to floo Dumbledore and send him  _ back _ there!”

Throughout the whole exchange, Mr Weasley, Ron and Harry whipped their heads back and forth between the twins while Mrs Weasley unsuccessfully tried to talk over them.

Arthur Weasley held his hand up, stopping whatever tirade Molly was going into. “ _ Right _ ,” he said, clapping his hands together, “Who’s this Harry you brought home with you?”

The twins moved aside to reveal Harry, Hedwig perched on his shoulder, looking terribly miserable and unnaturally small.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t think. Don’t worry, I’ll go back -”

The twins cried out in denial and Arthur held his hand up for silence again. He looked closer at the boy, and cried out in shock, “Good lord, you’re  _ Harry Potter _ ! Arthur Weasley, _ good _ to meet you -”

Mrs Weasley coughed and Arthur straightened, “Right, sorry. Well, of course you’re welcome to stay, Harry -”

“WHAT?” Molly Weasley turned on her husband.

“ _ Molly _ . The boy has  _ clearly _ had a rough time, and if you’d like, you can floo Albus, explain the situation -”

“We don’t have any room, Arthur -”

Mr Weasley looked at her in confusion, “Of course we do! Bill’ and Charlie’s bedrooms aren’t in use - Harry can use them. If you’re worried about food Molly -”

Molly huffed indignantly. “There is  _ plenty _ of food in my house. But what about his books and clothes?  _ Surely _ you don’t expect us to pay for them come term starts?”

Ron piped up, “Harry’s got his own Gringotts vault! Left to him by his parents! He bought his own books and robes last year with his own money, he can do it again this year too.”

Molly pursed her lips as Fred and George folded their arms defiantly. Harry tried _very_ hard to melt into the floor.

“Fine,” Molly conceded, then pointed a finger at Harry sternly, “But you aren’t staying here for free, young man. I’ll have work for you to do.”

Harry’s heart sank at the mention of work and he nodded. He hoped Molly Weasley wasn’t like Aunt Petunia. Hedwig eyed Molly balefully, and crooned softly into Harry’s ear.

“Righto!” Mr Weasley said cheerfully, “Fred, George, you help him get his things. Ron, show Harry to Bill’s old room. Molly, dinner perhaps? Ginny’s been watching from the stairs for a while now.”

At this, Ginny squeaked and ran back up to her room. Mrs Weasley puttered around the kitchen angrily, whipping up a huge dinner of roast, veggies and a cake for dessert.

Fred and George clapped Harry on the back and he gave them a watery smile before they trudged out the back door to get Harry’s things. Ron eagerly pulled him up the stairs to Bill’s old room, which looked lived in, but had a fine coating of dust over everything. Ron left Harry alone after his mother started shouting for him. Fred and George lugged Harry’s things up the rickety stairs and carefully set them down, George taking special care of Harry’s Nimbus. 

Fred chucked the small boy’s chin, “Hey, chin up Harry. We’ve got your back.”

“Yeah, and I reckon Mum won’t be too much of a pain if you do your chores right. We’ve all got to do them, so stick with us and you’ll be fine.”

Harry could only nod tiredly at his teammates. 

Mrs Weasley had called them all down to the kitchen and narrowed her eyes at them, particularly Harry. “You lot will be de-gnoming the garden today. We’ve had an overnight infestation. Mr Potter, if it’s not too much trouble, the boys will show you how.”

She whipped away back to the kitchen, and Harry tried not to wince. Fred and George showed him how to throw the gnomes, and Harry got a nasty bite from one he’d tried to set down nicely, and then flung it so far the twins gaped in astonishment.  _ Oh yes,  _ this was  _ much  _ more enjoyable than whatever Aunt Petunia would have had him doing.

After they had de-gnomed the garden, Mrs Weasley called them in for dinner, where Harry was introduced to Percy and Ginny. Percy looked down his long nose at Harry's small stature and then proceeded to ignore him completely. Ginny put her elbow in her potatoes every time Harry looked up from his plate. 

He had taken half a tablespoon of mash, a tiny bit of gravy and a small slice of roast.  He had sat in between Fred and Ron, unsure of what to do or how to behave around this large boisterous family. He felt like an intruder. 

Mrs Weasley looked at his meagre plate and asked indignantly, “Not catered to your diet, Mr Potter?”

Harry blushed and replied unsurely, “I’ve never had this much to eat before. I’m sorry, I’m trying not to waste anything.”

The entire Weasley family fell silent and Mrs Weasley looked at him in horror, like his answer had deeply cut her. Arthur choked out, “How much do you usually eat, Harry?”

Harry flushed as all eyes - even Percy's - fell on him. Mrs Weasley had put a hand to her mouth, like she was disgusted. He looked miserably at his hands in his lap, “A-Aunt Petunia usually gives me bread and cheese.”

It was silent for a moment and then Mrs Weasley suddenly let out a sob and flung herself at Harry, startling everybody.

“Oh, Harry! Eat as much as you want, dearie. You’re so thin…”

“O-Okay, Mrs Weasley,” Harry stuttered, not knowing what to do with the woman clinging to him and crying into his raggedy old shirt. 

Ron and Ginny looked confused, Percy was indifferent and continued eating though he dutifully scooped more beans into Harry's plate at his mother's beckoning, and Arthur and the twins looked like they might vomit. These Muggles were really sick in the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to my hardcore beta savingstrider. he's amazing and perfect. mate, bless you. 
> 
> also note that next week I may not be posting on Monday. but there will be an update. thank y'all for reading.


	5. Hogwarts

Draco was frustrated. He had no idea if his father had managed to slip the stupid black book to a Hogwarts student yet. 

He had hoped to get on Potter's good side this year, if only to make the inevitable fall out of his father's schemings unable to touch Draco. But, unfortunately, the Malfoy and Weasley patriarchs had gotten into a brawl in Diagon - and a physical brawl at that! Draco grimaced. How unbecoming of purebloods.

Unfortunately, Potter had deemed this confrontation as another slight against himself by the Malfoy heir, and ignored all of Draco’s attempts to talk to him. Surprisingly, the Weasel twins had started flanking Potter - which was strange considering that they were two years apart.

Draco shrugged internally, clutching his broom tightly as he subtly eyed the pitch for a glint of gold. Quidditch tryouts for Slytherin had started and since Flint was looking for a Seeker, Draco had decided to put his Chaser abilities on hold for now. 

The other Seeker hopefuls were puttering around the pitch. Draco was the youngest one there, and he knew Flint was looking for someone to rival Potter. He caught a glimpse of the Snitch, right next to Pucey’s ear and - looking around at the competition - he knew he had it. 

He shot off straight for the Snitch and within a few seconds, he’d been inducted into the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Draco was ecstatic of course. His father - in a confusing bit of power play - had procured Nimbus 2001’s for the rest of the Slytherin team. Draco was just dandy - until Granger got up in his face with her disgustingly bushy hair and said he bought his way into the team. 

Draco had frozen and then he’d flown into a furious rage. How _dare_ she insinuate he didn't deserve it _._ How _dare_ she say he had no talent. How _dare_ she tell Draco he didn't work for it. Next thing Draco knew, he had spat out the worst insult he could think of, and then Weasley was vomiting slugs and Potter stared at him with disbelief marring his piercing green eyes. 

_ How could you be so cruel _ , his eyes seemed to say.  _ It’s true,  _ Draco thought angrily,  _ all she is, is a filthy little mudblood.  _ Draco didn't try to talk to Potter again.

But then the attacks happened. The ickle Gryffindor first year with the camera - petrified and in the hospital wing. And Dumbledore - the old fool - wouldn’t even consent to have the Mandrake Restorative Draught bought from other suppliers. Next was Justin Finch-Fletchley and the Gryffindor ghost. The Weasel twins often dragged Potter off to various places in the castle, and from what Draco heard, Weasel and Granger weren’t very happy about it.

Draco knew this was it. His father's plans were coming to fruition and Draco would be  _ damned  _ if he let it continue. He had to save himself first, so going to the old fool wasn't an option. Instead, he went to Potter, who immediately rebuffed and insulted Draco. 

What the bloody hell was he to do now? He had to tell Potter but Potter wouldn't listen to him and if only Draco wasn't a twelve-year-old  _ child _ . He tried dropping hints to Potter through his insults, but that just made Vince and Greg question him and then run off and appear in the infirmary with no recollection whatsoever. And then Granger went and got herself petrified with that Ravenclaw upper year.

Potter and Weasel were devastated. Weasel wouldn't even let Draco say anything before he was trying to hex Draco with his broken wand. Draco had to go to the infirmary to fix his fractured metacarpals. 

Draco sat on an infirmary bed now, flexing his hand and staring blankly at Granger’s still form. He jumped up and immediately started digging through his pockets. Potter and Weasel were always visiting Granger, let them think  _ she  _ knew what the bloody beast in the Chamber was.

He gave a quiet cry of triumph as he found the duplicated paper. He scrawled ‘ _ pipes’  _ onto the page, just in case Potter and Weasel were incredibly stupid and couldn't figure it out. He pondered leaving the paper lying by Granger’s side, but as Madame Pomfrey’s footsteps headed his way, Draco stuffed it into Granger's clenched fist, ran back to his bed and began flexing his fingers again.

While the nurse checked over his healed metacarpals, Draco hoped desperately to every deity out there that Potter would find the piece of paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> round of applause for my awesome-sauce beta savingstrider, without whom this fic would not be published. leave comments dear readers, we'd love to know what you think.


	6. The Chamber of Secrets

Harry found the paper.

Hermione was brilliant. _Absolutely brilliant._ What wasn't brilliant? This. Bloody. _Basilisk._ And bloody Lockhart trapped in a vegetative state and Ron being separated and this _dirty great snake_ chasing him. And what did he have to defend himself with? A bloody sword.

Who even _used_ swords anymore? The Wizarding World was too blooming outdated. If Harry had a gun, the bloody giant worm would be dead ten times over by now.

But Harry did not have a gun, yet Harry had managed to kill the bloody worm but the stupid thing had got a fang into his arm and now Harry was dying. Not that he had ever really lived anyway, Harry thought bitterly. And then bloody Riddle was gloating and Ginny was dying and Harry had had _enough_.

So he wrenched the fang from his arm - ignoring the intense burning pain - and stabbed the cause of all this: that bloody diary. Miraculously, Riddle exploded, Ginny woke up and then Dumbledore's flaming flying chicken had cried and somehow Harry wasn't dying anymore.

Harry was seriously considering asking for a therapist because nothing made sense in the magical world.

He had talked to Dumbledore, who spouted something about the _power of love_ and asked him about his _peculiar parselmouth abilities_.

Harry and Ginny formed a permanent friendship in the hospital wing, under the influence of trauma and rescue operations. Harry realised she had a crush on him and awkwardly let her down, but Ginny had shrugged and said, “Well, I’m kind of put off by boys at the moment, considering I was possessed by an incredibly good looking one.”

Harry had shrugged helplessly and left her to her worried parents. He left the hospital wing to go for a walk and give Ginny some space.

Fred and George were sitting on the floor in the corridor a little ways off and when they saw Harry, they immediately launched into one of their back and forth speeches.

“Harry! Merlin, Harry you look right banged up -”

“Speaking of, we’re really grateful that you saved Ginny -”

“- Yeah, because she's always been our responsibility but I guess w-we -”

“- we just weren't there for her this year and that makes us absolutely _terrible_ brothers -”

“We just wanted to thank you really. She's our sister and just knowing what could have happened…”

They both fell silent and surreptitiously wiped at their eyes. Harry let them have a moment to compose themselves before speaking.

“Fred, George, really, don't thank me. I just did what I thought was right. But if you really want to thank me, then I’ll have to thank you for breaking me out of the Dursleys -”

The twins began to protest but Harry held up a hand to cut them off.

“See? Thanks are unnecessary. We all did what we had to do. Listen, Ginny’s very shook up at the moment. I think she’d appreciate hearing whatever you told me. Now, go and be her big brothers.”

Fred and George nodded and just as they were about to leave -

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever get tired of Ron and Granger, come hang with us all right?”

A week later, the Mandrake Restorative Draught was finally brewed and given to the petrified students. Hermione had run into Harry’s arms, and immediately started interrogating him about everything he'd done.

“You were right brilliant, Hermione, figuring it out like that,” Harry smiled.

“What are you talking about Harry? Honestly, sometimes it seems we’re on completely different levels of understanding and comprehension,” Hermione tossed back uncaringly.

Ron scrunched up his face,”You mean you didn't leave us that note in your hand telling us it was a basilisk?”

Hermione faltered in her rigorous page flipping. She looked up uncertainly at the two boys before scoffing, “Of course it was me, Ronald. Who else could it have been? Draco Malfoy?”

Ron guffawed loudly and he and Hermione started bickering over exams. Harry froze. Hermione didn't _actually_ find out about the basilisk. Harry knew she had a tendency to over exaggerate her abilities - she wanted to prove herself and she was terrified of losing her friends. From the uncertain looks and her initial reaction, Harry knew she had lied about the paper.

But then… who had put the paper in her hand? Had it been Dumbledore? Why hadn’t he done anything about it? Maybe it had been Ginny? But Tom would have known, wouldn’t he? Maybe it was because he wanted to face Harry. But neither Dumbledore nor Tom could have known he’d take Hermione’s hand and discover the paper. Harry wasn’t a touchy-feely boy.

What she and Ron had joked about made him laugh quietly: Draco Malfoy? Help Harry Potter? Hah! His father was the one who had given Ginny the book! Ron and Hermione had always scoffed at Harry’s ‘ _silly_ _idea_ _that_ _Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin’_. But all they had to confirm it was Malfoy’s own denial to ‘Crabbe’ and ‘Goyle’. And Hermione's weak Polyjuice had worn off before they could ask him more. But they were right, it wasn’t Malfoy, it was Tom.

But Malfoy had tried to talk to Harry back after Colin Creevy was first petrified, telling him there were extremely important things Harry had needed to know. He had insulted Harry once after the revelation of his parselmouth abilities. Malfoy had looked him straight in the eye and sneered, “King of Serpents.” And that was what was written on the page he had found in Hermione’s hand. And after his encounter with one raging Lucius Malfoy and one free house elf, he had to wonder.

So on the train back to King’s Cross, Harry cornered Malfoy while he was alone. Malfoy looked at him coolly.

“Malfoy, I just want to say… thank you. For the basilisk thing.”

Malfoy’s pureblood facade dropped for a second in shock, before he composed himself and nodded stiffly at Harry, who was surprised that his test had given positive results.

“You're welcome, Potter. Though I must admit, I expected you to take it to the Headmaster and not go running off to save the baby Weasel.”

Harry giggled sheepishly and Malfoy’s eyes widened. Harry fumbled, “Well - I - Uh - Best be going. Bye Malfoy, see you next term.” And then Harry ran away.

Draco Malfoy stared down the corridor at the retreating form of Harry Potter - and smiled.


	7. The Leaky Cauldron

Harry was furious. How _dare_ she. Calling his mother a _bitch_. And his father a _drunkard_. His parents had _died_ _for him._ Faced the Darkest Wizard of all time. Not just in Wizarding UK, but the _world._ Even Grindelwald wasn't as evil as Voldemort. And his parents had faced Voldemort head on. Died to save their baby. He could still hear his mother’s screams.

And her good for nothing sister. Aunt Petunia hadn’t said a  _ word _ in defense of her own sister. Harry had lost any minute shred of respect he had for her. How  _ dare _ they speak badly of his parents, when their sacrifice had saved their lives.  _ All _ of their lives.

He trudged down the street, Marge floating and screaming in the distance. He had no money, no way of getting to the Leaky Cauldron or to the Weasleys. And Mrs Weasley would hardly be appreciative of his appearance for the second year in a row, as much as she asked Ron to check on Harry’s diet.

“Stupid Muggles. Stupid Wizards. Stupid stupid stupid - “

A growl sounded from the hedge to his left and he yelped. Harry backed away from the hedge immediately, drawing out his wand. Underage magic or not - he'd be damned if he let  _ another  _ hedge intimidate him. As he backed to the other side of the road - wand aimed at the hedge - he tripped over the sidewalk.  _ Stupid Harry. A bloody growling hedge and then you trip. Fantastic job. _

And then suddenly with loud BANG - a deep purple bus appeared in front of him. The conductor - Stan Shunpike he said - asked stupid questions and hefted his trunk into the bus. Harry peered around the bus at the hedge, looking for strange eyes or Magical creatures, and when he saw none, he pushed his feelings of discomfort to the back of his mind and happily made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.

“Hello, Tom. Have you got a room?”

Tom the Barkeep looked up and smiled toothily, “Mr Potter! A delight to see you. The Minister is expecting you!”

Harry paled and started backing away, but Tom had moved around his reception desk and pushed Harry along. Harry begun to panic, looking for any way out of this. He couldn't survive without magic - he couldn't! Well, he  _ could _ but it would be a  _ terrible existence _ .

But the Minister hadn't even given him a light slap on the wrist, let alone snap his wand. The Minister allowed him to leave with a word of warning, “Don't leave Diagon Alley. Tell people where you are. Tell Tom where you're going. You aren't to leave Diagon.”

Harry had agreed hesitantly. “Tom, why am I not allowed to leave Diagon?”

The Barkeeper's smile faltered, but he tried to wave Harry’s question away, “Oh it’s nothing of concern Mr Potter! I’m sure the Minister just didn't want you to trouble yourself looking for other accommodation…”

Harry had stopped in his tracks and drew up in his best authoritative manner. He tried emulating Draco Malfoy’s pureblood behaviour, and looked coolly at the BarKeep, eyebrow raised.

Tom had stuttered through his answer, intimidated by the Saviour of the Wizarding World’s piercing green gaze. “T-The Minister w-wishes to keep you safe from S-Sirius B-Black.”

Harry looked defeated and sighed. Would he ever catch a break?

“Why is Sirius Black after me?”

“He was a supporter of You-Know-Who. H-He killed another Wizard, his best friend. And he killed 13 Muggles in an explosion. Probably wants to finish the job.”

“That’s not all there is, is there?” Harry sighed as they stopped outside his room.

“Mr Potter,” Tom said gently, “I don’t think I should be the one to give that news to you. Please, Mr Potter, you really should hear it from someone who knows you better.”

“But Tom -”

“No Mr Potter, I insist on this.”

Harry sighed and nodded. He would ask Mr Weasley about it. Speaking of the Weasleys, the twins, Ginny and Ron had sent him letters of their trip to Egypt that summer. Ginny was doing better, the trauma of her first year had made her incredibly quiet, but the twins and their older brother Bill were getting her to talk about it more and more each day. Harry was pleased to hear it.

The twins asked after Harry’s health and his situation with the Dursleys in between stories of ancient curses, pushing Percy into pyramids and rip off souvenirs. Harry ecstatically wrote back about his blowup and the consequent change in location. Bill and Charlie had sent a small PostScript with the twins’ letter, thanking him for saving their baby sister.

Ron’s letters mainly consisted of him enthusing about the trip and whatever he’d seen. Hermione had written him a long lecture about underage magic and how she ‘didn't see it was necessary. Honestly Harry you can't just go blowing up your relatives’. Harry ignored that particular letter, though it left him unsettled at her callousness.

Harry spent the next few days sorting out his Gringotts account, changing some Galleons for Pounds (Harry was shocked to learn he’d be a multi-billionaire in the Muggle world) and eating to his heart's content at Florean Fortescue. He also bought new sets of clothing for school and wizarding casual wear - and invested in a small, black haversack with an Expandable Space Charm inside. He promptly stuffed all his school books, homework, parchment, a self-inking quill, a couple of Muggle pens he convinced Tom the Barkeep to get for him, and his invisibility cloak into the haversack. Harry carried it wherever he went, made easier by a Lightening Charm imbued into the haversack by the shopkeeper.

The Weasleys came to stay at the Leaky Cauldron a week before Hogwarts started. Percy had ostentatiously greeted Harry only to be pushed aside by Fred and George who wrapped him into a hop-around hug. Arthur had greeted Harry merrily and Mrs Weasley had looked at him disapprovingly and then asked if his appetite had grown. She then proceeded to watch him eat his lunch and slipped an extra scoop of mash on his plate when he wasn't looking, though she ignored him most of the time to glare at Mr Weasley.

Harry dragged Ginny off to Quality Quidditch Supplies, and as they both admired the Firebolt, Harry quietly asked, “How are you doing Ginny?”

Ginny replied equally quietly, “I’m doing better, but I still have ‘anxiety attacks’ - that’s what Bill says they are - sometimes. Usually when boys I don’t know want to talk to me.”

Harry had swept her away from the Quidditch shop immediately, since it was filled to the brim with boys.

He saw Malfoy and his mother once, across the way at Twilfitt’ and Tatting’s. He nodded at Malfoy and Malfoy had nodded back. Lady Malfoy had appraised Harry before inclining her head slightly. Harry didn't know what possessed him to bow a little at the waist but judging by the surprised and pleased smile on Lady Malfoy’s usually cold face and the incredulous look on Draco’s, those period dramas Aunt Petunia watched during the summer had been the right way to go. He’d have to figure out the social hierarchy in the Wizarding World soon.

Harry tried to buy Fred and George’s prank potions ingredients since they had no money on them, and the twins immediately went on the defensive about  _ accepting charity  _ and  _ pity money _ and Harry cast about for something to say to lessen the offense.

“What are you talking about? You  _ are _ going to pay me back aren’t you?”

The Weasley twins had frozen and Harry mentally wished Hagrid (whom he’d reconciled with after the Floo incident last year) would step on him and stop him from putting his foot in his mouth. But then the twins had agreed heartily and promised they would pay him back.

“Well, at least before we leave Hogwarts,” Fred had winked. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Hermione dropped in two days before the train would leave for Hogwarts. And then she bought that ugly cat. It  _ really _ hated Scabbers for some reason, Hermione tried pointing out other rats for Crookshanks to chase, but he didn't even lift a paw. He seemed intent on Scabbers. It was weird and Ron absolutely hated the ugly thing, but Harry on the other hand, was on the receiving end of Crookshanks’ adoration, much to Hermione's aggravation.

The day came for Harry to return to Hogwarts. He travelled with the Weasleys in  _ Ministry cars _ , courtesy of Minister Fudge. As Harry was about to follow the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione onto the platform, haversack on his back and pushing the trolley with his lighter trunk and Hedwig’s cage, Arthur held him back. The Muggles swarmed around them, taking no notice.

“Harry,” Arthur said seriously, “I must warn you,  _ do not _ go looking for Sirius Black.”

Harry looked briefly confused, “Why would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?”

He remembered the thing Tom the Barkeep hadn't told him, “Mr Weasley… why do you think I would go looking for him?”

Mr Weasley grimaced but shook his head, “I can’t tell you that Harry. It’s not something you should know.”

Harry was becoming sick and tired of adults telling him he didn't need to know things. But he respected and was grateful of Mr Weasley’s presence in his life, and decided not to push the boundaries in case Mr Weasley no longer liked him. He sulked, but nodded all the same, and pushed through the wall to the steam-filled platform.

He boarded the train and waved at the Weasley parents before Ron dragged him off to find a cabin, chattering about what he’d been up to during the summer -  _ again _ . Harry had heard this story at least five times now and he didn't care more for it than he had the  _ first _ five times.

Once in the cabin, Hermione begun lecturing Harry. 

“Harry,” she said primly, unconsciously mimicking Percy Weasley, “you really shouldn’t over dramatise your life at home. Just because your guardians made you angry does not mean you should blow up at them. Not everything can go the way you want it Harry.”

Harry frowned, “They -”

Hermione held up her hand, “I don’t want to hear it Harry. You really should listen to me, and please do something about your lack of control over your magic. Even Ginny has better control than you, and she wasn’t even really present for first year.”

“Oi! Don’t say that about her Hermione! It’s bad enough she goes into these weird trances half the time, don’t go spreading it around! Bloody hell,” Ron hissed. The duo speculated about Ginny’s apparent mental issues, which annoyed Harry to no end. 

Harry became more and more irritated by the minute by their careless insensitivity and midway into the trip, when Ron and Hermione started bickering about their animals and questioning Harry about Sirius Black, Harry mumbled about going to the bathroom, grabbed his haversack and left in search of Fred, George and Lee Jordan, who weren't any less  _ noisy _ , but were much less annoying. 

Then the train came to a screeching halt, and all the lights turned off. Harry wasn't stupid. He had seen enough Muggle horror movies from the open grate of his cupboard to know the likelihood of something similar happening in the Magical world was incredibly high. That, and Harry’s first two years in the Magical world had him on high alert.

Harry ran into the nearest compartment, ignoring the startled gasps and shrieks. He locked the door, drew the curtains, took out his wand and put his ear to the door. Hearing nothing, Harry rounded on the noisy occupants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! so sorry I didn't keep to my regular update schedule of every Monday! I was at camp Monday to Wednesday, and simply didn't have the energy to turn on my computer. I will try to post on Mondays from now onward, but I maintain that this story will be updated every week... just sometimes not on Mondays (:


	8. The Slytherin Cabin

Their cabin was in uproar. Oh! It was Potter. But if Draco was right - and he had an inkling he was - Sirius Black, the escaped prisoner, had just boarded the train and was looking for Potter.  _ Brilliant luck. _ Pansy was shrieking her head off about bloody Gryffindors or what not, Vince and Greg were cracking their knuckles and it seemed only he and Blaise had any sense of self-preservation and were keeping quiet. Blaise finally managed to muffle Pansy’s screeching, and Draco asked immediately, “Potter, what are you doing here!”

Potter groaned mutely and dropped his face into his hands. Pansy started up again, cursing more than a pureblood girl should, “What the bloody  _ fuck _ is going on! Why the bloody hell are you in our cabin, Potter! Why has the train stopped? IS THIS YOU GRYFFINDOR’S IDEA OF A PRANK POT -”

“Parkinson, do have some  _ semblance _ of self-preservation and shut the fuck up. There is something or someone dangerous on the train and I am  _ not _ going to  _ die _ because you won't  _ shut. Your. Trap _ ,” Potter hissed.

Pansy shut her mouth in shock, and the rest of the Slytherins stared at Potter in astonishment. Blaise whispered loudly, “Did Potter _ really _ just say that? That was the most Slytherin thing I’ve ever heard - I might actually  _ cry _ . What the hell Potter, why aren't you in Slytherin? More importantly,  _ why aren't we friends _ ?”

Potter ignored him and peeped out the drawn curtains. Still no sign of anything, but it would be silly to be unprepared. Without looking at them, Potter ordered, “Crabbe. Goyle. Here with me. Now.”

Vince and Greg looked at Draco in uncertainty and Potter snapped, “Are you serious right now? This isn't a fucking  _ power play.  _ Now listen to me for your own  _ self-preservation,  _ or are you not Slytherins?”

Vince and Greg scrambled off their seats and to Potter, towering over him. He nodded, still looking out the window - Draco supposed he was checking for Sirius Black. 

They were all  _ doomed _ . 

“All right, both of you, backs to the door, put all your weight on it and make sure it  _ stays closed. _ The latch isn't going to stay locked, knowing my luck.”

Potter addressed all of them, “Now all of you need to calm down, find your Slytherin cunning, shut up and listen. Whatever or whoever, it will take a while before it gets here - we’re somewhat in the middle. Get your wands out, be prepared to go down fighting.”

Draco, Blaise and Pansy drew their wands and aimed them at the door, quivering with fright. Potter was going to get them  _ killed - _ though he seemed to know what he was doing - Potter was  _ thirteen _ . They were mere children against Sirius Black. The Slytherin cabin was unnaturally quiet, and the rest of the train fell eerily silent. Draco pointed his wand at the door - looking at the latch - expelliarmus on his lips and prayed he wouldn't have to fight anything.

Potter put an arm on Vince, who was closest to the door latch and nodded at Greg. The two bulky Slytherins were shaking in fright. 

“I know you're scared, but shove it aside for now,” Potter whispered reassuringly, “You have a job to do. I won't let anything touch you.”

Vince and Greg nodded, terrified out of their wits. Draco cursed Dumbledore for not having proper security measures with Sirius Black on the loose and likely looking for Potter - who would be on a highly accessible train with hundreds of other underage students.  _ We're barely thirteen. Potter is barely thirteen. We shouldn't have to face this kind of terror in our lives. _

Greg whispered mutely, “You aren't so bad, Potter.”

But then the window behind Pansy, Blaise and Draco started to ice over and then suddenly the door latch shook like someone was trying to open it. Vince and Greg pushed as hard as they can, and the others helped, but it wasn't any use. The door slid open incredibly slowly, but slid open anyway.

A bony, grey hand with long, claw-like nails was inching in, menacingly gripping the door. Vince was the closest to the hand and he whimpered but bravely continued to hold the door as much as he could.

Potter tried to reassure him, but then his eyes glazed over and Draco groaned and slapped him, trying and failing not to panic as his breaths came out in steamy clouds. 

(Harry didn't feel it, he couldn't feel anything except hopeless despair and misery and  _ he could hear someone screaming _ . He could hear Malfoy yelling at him,  _ Potter, snap out of it! Potter! _ But he couldn’t. He was stuck. He was frozen. He was drowning.)

Draco saw Potter succumb to the Dementor’s power.  _ Oh Merlin _ , he thought as the door was forced open even more and the Dementor poked its head in, looking directly at Potter. This was so much worse than Sirius Black. Vince shrieked and they all jumped away from the door. Draco dragged Potter as far away from the Dementor as he possibly could, and the bunch of Slytherins pressed up against the window.

With no resistance deterring it, the Dementor slowly pushed the door all the way open. It stood in the corridor and leaned towards them. Potter fainted, crumbling in Draco’s arms.

“No! Fuck! Potter, don't do this! No! Fuck! Wake up!”

Pansy screamed and sank to the floor as the Dementor floated closer and Draco shut his eyes and mouth tight. He put a hand over Potter’s mouth. Just - anything to stop the eventual Dementor’s Kiss. He braced himself and -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to my swawesome beta savingstrider. He has a tumblr, check it out. [if you saw what I did there, can I get an 'omgcheckplease!']


	9. The Hogwarts Express

The Dementor was practically  _ hurled _ back from the cabin; a misty, white wolf darting in and pouncing on it, forcing the Dementor away from the terrified Slytherins. It shrieked and glided away as fast as it could down the corridor.

A ragged man in shabby robes and scars across his face stood before them, “Is everyone okay?”

Draco stamped down on the fear that Sirius Black was standing in front of him and stuttered out, “P-Potter -”

The shabby man immediately reached for Potter, but Draco clutched Potter tighter. He demanded raspily, “W-Who are y-you?”

The shabby man held his hands up, eyes frantically searching Potter’s face. He spoke quickly, “Professor Remus Lupin. Let me see him. Quickly now.”

Draco nodded reluctantly and let the Professor take Harry to lay him down on the cabin seats. Professor Lupin put his ear to Potter’s chest, breathed a sigh of relief and then stood up, moving towards the door. 

Blaise screeched, “Where are you going?! Potter’s still unconscious!”

The Professor opened his robes and grabbed something from his pocket, pushing it into Blaise’s hands, “The Dementors are still on the train. I need to check on the other students. All of you eat this. Do whatever you can for Harry. I’ll be back.”

Draco spluttered angrily but the Professor was long gone. Pansy picked herself gingerly off the floor. She looked toward the door and Blaise slammed it shut, latched it and levitated their bags to block the door, just in case. Vince and Greg sat down on the other cabin seat in relief. Draco eyed Blaise’s wand and Blaise shrugged, “They won't know it's me, the Professor was just in here.”

Pansy lifted Potter’s head gingerly and sat down, placing him back on her lap, ever the opportunist. She stroked his hair, eyeing the door distrustfully. Draco sat at Potter’s feet, and stared blankly at Potter’s troubled face. Blaise distributed the chocolate that Professor Lupin had given him. After a few bites of the delicious chocolate, the atmosphere seemed to lighten.

Someone knocked quietly at the cabin door a few minutes later, startling all of them and causing Pansy to shriek.

“It’s me, Professor Lupin.”

Blaise was the only one brave enough to approach the door, so he moved the bags and unlatched the door, letting Professor Lupin in.

Lupin immediately checked Potter over, then checked on the Slytherins. Pansy had a scrape on her knee from where she sank to the floor but he healed it quickly. Otherwise they were all fine. Lupin asked what happened and Pansy quietly recounted the ordeal. They sat in silence, waiting for Potter to wake up.

Potter woke up a little while later, blinking up blearily at Pansy, who was looking at him in concern. He shot up, almost hitting her head with his and asked, “ _ What the hell _ ! Parkinson are you all right?” Potter checked her for any damage.

Pansy smacked his hands, “ _ Potter _ ! Of course I’m fine. You're being weird.  _ You're  _ the one that isn't all right.”

Lupin spoke quietly, “Harry, she’s fine. I did a check up on her a few minutes ago.”

Potter whirled around, wand out and directed at Lupin, a frantic gleam in his eyes, “Who are you?!”

“Professor Remus Lupin. I was in the same cabin as you earlier, if Ms Granger and Mr Weasley were correct.”

Potter lowered his wand, but eyed Lupin suspiciously. Lupin asked hesitantly, “Harry, are you all right? Any dizziness? Bruising? Headache?”

“I heard Pansy screaming,” he blurted out, “when I was out. I heard her screaming like she was dying. Are you sure she's all right?”

Lupin blanched - a strange reaction, Draco thought. Then he turned to Potter, “Aren't Dementors supposed to bring out your worst memory?”

Lupin stood up abruptly, “Forgive me. I have to go check on the other students.” He promptly walked out of the cabin.

Pansy turned her attention to Potter, “Like Draco said, why would your worst memory be me screaming?”

Potter seemed confused, so Draco explained slowly, like he would to an incredibly stupid person.

“Dementors are the guards of the wizard prison Azkaban. I’m guessing they were checking the train for Sirius Black. He’s been sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss you see. Dementors are soul suckers. They suck away all your happy feelings and leave you with your worst memories. And if they get close enough, they could eventually suck your soul out - devour it. It’s a fate many consider to be worse than death.”

Potter went white as a sheet, “Memories?”

Potter stared blankly at his lap and the Slytherins left him to it. He seemed to be in shock, so Pansy continued to stroke his hair. Draco stood and pulled the curtains shut, latched the door and levitated the bags down again. Blaise sat down opposite as Vince and Greg got out their Exploding Snap deck. Just as Blaise, Vince and Greg were getting ready to start a round, the door to their cabin gave a lurch and Potter immediately jumped up, startling the already jumpy Slytherins.

The Weasel’s voice called out and he started banging on the door, “OI YOU LOT IN THERE, OPEN UP WE’RE LOOKING FOR HARRY POTTER.”

Draco sniffed affectedly and scowled at Potter, but Potter had slumped his shoulders in defeat and stared at his feet. Draco huffed and pushed Potter to sit down. Potter looked up in surprise and smiled a little. Draco rolled his eyes and pushed a stray hair back into place. He would never willingly subject anyone to the Weasel - not even Potter.

Draco beckoned Vince and Greg to flank him - blocking all view of Potter. Draco opened the door to Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, who recoiled immediately upon seeing the Slytherins.

“Weasel, Granger,” Draco drawled, “some people aren't very easily amused by your Gryffindor obliviousness. Now, please leave and let the Dementors Kiss you.”

Weasel spluttered and Granger made some noise of indignation but Draco slammed the door on them. Vince and Greg got back to their game with Blaise, and Draco sat down by Potter’s side. In the time it had taken Draco to get rid of Potter’s friends, Potter had miraculously allowed Pansy to hold his hand and rub it soothingly. 

After Draco sat down, Blaise appraised Potter, running his dark eyes calculatively over the Gryffindor’s slight frame, and then promptly put his feet in Potter’s lap. Potter raised a delicate eyebrow but didn't say anything. Draco looked at the small, skinny boy and slung an arm around him like he’d seen Weasel do. He grimaced that he was emulating Weasel now, but Potter looked like he might crumble to dust and Draco once again felt the need to  _ do something _ . 

Potter stiffened, naturally. But he relaxed as the train ride went on in a comfortable silence, save for the sound of Exploding cards. The announcement that they were arriving soon came from a Hufflepuff perfect, and she looked surprised to see Harry Potter sitting amongst Slytherins. She made no comment and went on her way, after a vicious glare from Pansy.

Pansy left the cabin to change, swiping her fingers through Potter’s hair one last time. Potter reached for his haversack and made to leave, but Blaise stopped him, “Potter, you don't have to leave. I  _ would _ like to be friends with the most Slytherin Gryffindor.”

Blaise held his right palm to his heart - a pureblood gesture - and bowed slightly, “I’m Blaise Zabini.”

Potter appraised Blaise with a calculative glint in his eye and stuck out a hand. He smirked, challenging, “Harry Potter.”

Blaise scrunched his nose at Potter’s hand, but accepted the challenge and shook it. Potter grinned and the Slytherins were literally shocked by the lightened atmosphere in the cabin, like the magic surrounding them responded to Potter’s feelings. Draco felt like a jolt of something had zipped up his spine and looked at Potter in concealed suspicion.

The boys all changed out of their Wizards robes and Potter out of his more casual wizarding attire. Draco did a double-take when Potter took his shirt off and he saw the patches of yellowing bruises and the hint of Potter’s ribs poking out. Vince and Greg winced, knowing the force it must have taken for Potter to have as large bruises as that, considering they’d issued similar to arsehole upper years. But arsehole upper years gunning for the Malfoy heir weren’t as tiny as Potter.

Blaise and Draco shared a look and carried on changing. Potter was oblivious to the understanding that happened amongst the four Slytherins within the frame of a few seconds:  _ treat Potter well this year. _

After Pansy returned and had a whispered conversation with Potter (“I’m Pansy Parkinson.” “Harry Potter. I - Thank you for… whatever you did earlier.” “You’re welcome.”), she and the rest of the boys left the cabin, leaving Draco and Potter behind. 

Draco cleared his throat, “Potter.”

Potter nodded cautiously, “Malfoy.”

“Look, Potter. I know I was a twit the last two years, and I… I wanted to apologise. And I want to ask if we could start over.”

Potter looked at him for a long moment and Draco twitched irritably under the scrutiny. The Gamekeeper was already assembling the first years, what was Potter waiting for? He was about to storm off and say “forget it” but then Potter stuck a hand out.

“I’m Harry Potter. Nice to meet you.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled, “I’m Draco Malfoy. Pleasure’s all mine.”

This time, Draco took his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? I'll tell you what it is: SURPRISE UPDATE! WHOOOOOO. Now you have an early reading after that irritating little cliffhanger. Wasn't the suspense lovely?
> 
> feel free to check out my tumblr: batblade. Also check out my beta's: savingstrider. thank you all for reading!


	10. Hogwarts, Part 1

Crabbe and Goyle introduced themselves to Harry at their first meeting. Or Vince and Greg now that they were friends. The Slytherins had requested their newfound friendship with Harry be kept a secret, simply because their families were unlikely to be at all supportive and Slytherin politics would see them on the outs if it ever came to light. Harry was delighted to meet the people they really were behind the pureblood masks, and they met up two times a week before dinner in abandoned classrooms and secret corridors Harry found in his explorations with Fred and George.

Pansy Parkinson was an absolute delight. She was what he thought Hermione had been; highly intelligent, caring and righteous. Pansy had taken to mothering Harry, and helping him with his charms homework. He liked talking to her, and it was never awkward, not since that fateful train ride. They could talk about anything and everything under the Sun, and she taught him a lot about the Wizarding World and the social hierarchies. In turn, he told her about the Muggle world, and helped her with DADA homework. He was shocked to learn she was nobility, that Draco was as well.

“How does that work?” Harry asked the Slytherins one day in November. They were lounging about in the old music classroom on the 6th floor. Not many people wandered up there, since it was mainly the teachers quarters and confusing corridors. Blaise had found some old pillows in a locked cupboard, and after casting a few cleaning spells, and a couple of  _ Engorgio _ s, the group lounged about on the cushioned floor. 

“My family’s been in England for about twelve generations,” Pansy said, “Our ancestral roots are in Korea. Father obeyed tradition and married a Korean girl, but raised me here. I know that's what you really meant to ask Harry. Don't worry, I’m not offended.”

Harry blushed up at her from Pansy’s lap. The both of them seemed to fall together that way ever since the train incident. “All right. So you're pure Korean?”

Pansy shrugged. She flipped a page of the magazine she was reading, “Occasionally someone would marry another race. But the Parkinson line stayed mostly Korean. We are nobility because my ancestor was a rebellious and unrefined heir apparent to a Count. He had no money of his own, spent most of it travelling. He courted a girl from a rich Korean family, she started a business and ran it, building their riches. He caused quite a scandal by taking her name instead when he married her.”

Vince and Greg snickered. They were pretty much a packaged deal. Harry had had no idea how to talk to them, but then Vince had mentioned Quidditch and it all fell into place. Harry now knew more about Quidditch teams than he ever wanted to.

“Well, not all of us come from nobility Harry, I for one simply have my mother to thank for our infinite wealth and beauty,” Blaise said.

“Why? What does she do?”

They all turned pitying gazes on him. Harry shifted nervously under their scrutiny. Blaise turned back to the Prophet, “When you’re older Harry.”

Blaise Zabini was… intriguing. He had always seemed the mysterious, Italian bad boy that had all the girls in a tizzy. But Harry now knew he was as in your face and brash as anyone could be. 

Blaise liked to talk about various fashion and beauty products, and every time he saw Harry - regardless of day, time, or present company - he always flicked his wand and Harry’s hair would shift into a styled mess, rather than just a mess. Harry had awkwardly yet amusedly turned down Cho Chang’s request for a date. 

Blaise also liked to argue with Harry about various political movements in both Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He confided in Harry that he was gay, and Harry hadn't even blinked before Blaise had coined him bisexual. Harry had no idea what any of that meant so he just nodded and let Blaise talk about the advancing movement for gay rights in the Wizarding World.

“What about you Draco?”

Draco picked at his nails, he seemed perfectly comfortable in the lone wooden chair in the room, sitting properly and looking down at all of them. He puffed up in pride, “Malfoys are French. We are not the main line, they stayed in France. My grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy was first generation English. We are a wealthy pureblood French family, but Grandfather and Father secured our assets in England. The nobility comes from my mother actually. There were no other options for the Black main line to pass on their title, so it went to her.”

“Wait,  _ Black _ ? Like  _ Sirius Black _ ?” Harry shot up, knocking his head into Pansy’s magazine. Draco stiffened, and avoided looking at Harry, instead picking at his nails, “Yes. He’s my mother's first cousin.”

Harry gaped and then shrugged.  _ He _ couldn't help but be related to the Dursleys, why was Draco’s relation to Sirius Black any different?

“Do you think he knows about you?”

Draco relaxed minutely, “Doubt it. He was disowned when Mother was still in her teens.”

Draco Malfoy was annoyingly perfect, in Harry’s opinion. He and Harry got along like a house on fire the moment they put aside their enmity and competitiveness, though he was still a pompous arse most of the time. They talked about Quidditch, they talked about school, they talked a little bit about Harry’s life with the Dursleys and Draco’s life with Lucius Malfoy as a father. They talked about Snape’s hatred for Harry and Dumbledore’s obvious favouring and the first Wizarding war. 

They gossiped like a pair of old ladies (“Did you  _ see _ who came down to breakfast with Cedric Diggory today?” “Cho Chang! I  _ know _ . She’s so creepy.”) and went on adventures around the castle when Pansy and Blaise started talking about the latest Wizarding fashion. Draco and him went in search of the Hogwarts kitchens, after Harry received a tip off from Fred and George. The duo found Dobby, and the whole story had come out about Draco eavesdropping on his parents and Dobby trying to clean his muddy boots and  _ accidentally  _ eavesdropping as well.

(“You impersonated Vince and Greg? With  _ Polyjuice _ ? How did you even -”)

Harry also reconnected with Remus Lupin, his father’s best friend and occasional babysitter when Harry was a baby. Remus began to teach Harry the Patronus Charm after Harry’s stoic reasoning for defending himself. 

“The school is surrounded by Dementors, Professor. I won't allow myself to become their victim.”

“The Patronus Charm is a very complex and highly advanced spell, Harry, and do call me Remus when we’re in private,” Remus said. They were in his office. Remus was grading papers while Harry fussed with a Rubix Cube Remus had procured in his time living amongst Muggles.

“I defeated a giant snake out to kill me in second year, Remus,” Harry deadpanned, “At least let me try.”

Remus had thrown his hands up in the air in exasperation and agreed, to Harry’s great delight. Harry would secretly spend most of his Saturday evenings in the company of the DADA Professor, talking about his parents, the Marauders, practicing the Patronus Charm, and doing homework - though never DADA. 

Remus eventually told him the truth about Sirius Black that all the adults wanted to keep from him.

“He - He’s my  _ what?” _

_ “ _ Your godfather. If the Headmaster hadn't had you taken away to the Dursleys as soon as it happened, Sirius Black would've had every right to take you. He is your legal guardian.”

“Was -,” Harry swallowed painfully, “Was he the reason Voldemort knew about my parents? About me?”

Remus looked down at the boy in front of him with sorrowful and pained eyes.

“Yes.”

Harry flew into a rage in Remus’ office, cursing Sirius Black every foul word he’d learned from Vernon and Dudley Dursley. By the time he’d calmed down, Remus’ things were almost completely destroyed. Harry crumpled and apologised profusely. He’d wrecked a  _ Professor's office.  _ Remus winced at his damaged things - a result of Harry’s Magical outburst - and  _ Reparo _ ’d everything he could. 

“I’m so sorry Professor Lupin. I promise to reimburse everything.”

“Nonsense, Harry. You don't need to do that.And for the last time, call me Remus.”

“But Remus -”

“Harry, really, everything is fine.”

“No Remus, I know you're struggling and I know I’ve probably just destroyed everything you held dear. Most of them were falling apart anyway. My dad wouldn't have let one of his best friends suffer like this. Especially not one who was looking out for me the way you are now.”

“Harry -”

“Shush, Remus. It’s happening whether you like it or not. You're going to find yourself on the receiving end of access to the Potter Vaults -”

“WHAT! Harry, you can’t do that! I absolutely refuse -”

“Remus, you're my father figure now. Take the responsibility.”

Remus looked at Harry in shock and incredulity. Harry stood firm though he shifted awkwardly at his deep attachment to Remus. Remus crossed over and hugged Harry hard, but careful not to crush the small boy.

“All right. All right. You’re  _ every bit _ as stubborn as James.”

“Good.”

“You're quite a Slytherin aren't you?”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> savingstrider and batblade on tumblr! It's hard to write Harry as my protagonist when I'm re-reading The Green Girl by Colubrina.


	11. Hogwarts, Part 2

Harry spent most of his time in the mornings and afternoons with Ron and Hermione, who liked to talk of nothing but schoolwork and Sirius Black and Dumbledore. Ron was constantly pestering him for details about Black and Hermione would always get onto his case about slacking off in class. 

(“Surely Dumbledore’s told you something about Black?”

“Harry doesn't have time, Ronald. His potions marks are preposterous. Do you even try Harry?”

“Well, Snape’s a right slimy git though. He’s always taking points off me and Harry. Just because you’re working with Parkinson -”

“She's an absolute cow, Ron. I think I’m suffering more than you.”)

Fred and George began hanging around him more, and when the trio split up - or rather Harry escaped from Ron and Hermione - the twins would continue to follow him around. Harry was late to his meeting with Draco and Blaise - they were going to break into the bell tower today - but the twins were constantly appearing at the most inopportune moments.

He turned around and glared at the Weasley twins, who shrunk back. He turned to Fred, “Fred, would you  _ kindly _ explain why you're following me around like a couple of baby ducks?”

Fred scoffed, “I’m not Fred, I’m George.”

Harry stomped his foot and the twins’ raised their eyebrows in amusement.

“ _ Yes _ , YOU are Fred and  _ that _ is George and  _ I’m _ not  _ stupid _ .”

George asked in amusement, “You can tell us apart?”

Harry looked at the ceiling in exasperation, “Yes George, I can tell you apart.”

Fred asked, “How?”

Harry continued looking at the ceiling, “Really, Fred, it's not that hard. And why are you so concerned about this anyway?”

Fred and George shared a look of surprise. Harry hadn't even had to look at them to tell them apart. They nodded at each other. George spoke up, “No one’s been able to tell the difference between us. Not even Lee. Even he messes up most of the time.”

Harry huffed, but smiled at George, “Look, I appreciate that you're serious about the offer of friendship, but I’ve got things I need to do. Private things. I really have to go and I can't have you two following me around all the time. I get enough of that from Ron and Hermione.”

Harry winced, remembering he was speaking to Ron’s brothers. But all Fred and George did was beam at him, slap him on the back and carry on their merry way, discussing a prank on the Hufflepuffs. 

Fred and George quite suddenly became Harry’s buffers from Ron and Hermione. They couldn't ask him about Sirius Black with Fred and George there, and when Ron would go off on a tangent about one of his stories, George would slap him on the head and tell him to shut up. Meanwhile, when Hermione started lecturing Harry, Fred would make a huge scene and yell, “Granger’s Madame Pince impression is spot on! Come watch!” Hermione would glare and tackle her homework with renewed aggression.

By February, Fred and George became his closest friends, and Harry told them about Sirius Black. He told them everything, including the new details he learned from Remus that he’d kept from Ron and Hermione. They gave him counsel in tackling his emotions.

Fred looked at Harry seriously, “You’ve got to deal with this Harry. You’ve already been through so much. Bill told us about all these mental illnesses when we were helping Ginny recover and it sounds like you’ve got some self-evaluation to do.”

“Yeah,” George added, “Talk to Professor Lupin, come to terms with it. It’ll help you to have a clearer mind.”

Harry nodded, “How’s Ginny by the way? I haven't had the chance to speak to her much this year.”

George rolled his eyes, “She’s much better. Fred and I followed her around for  _ ages _ in November - got detention for missing class too. Ginny told us off and said she was fine. Threatened to write to  _ Bill _ . Bloody embarrassed about her friends all fawning over us, she is.”

They told him about their dreams for setting up a prank shop, and their mother’s disapproval. 

“Wants us to join the Ministry ‘ _ just like Percy’.  _ ‘Get a respectful job’ she says,” grumbled Fred.

Harry shrugged deliberately, picking at his nails, “I’ve got the money, I’d be happy to invest, but do you two even have products yet? Or are you still messing around with Zonko’s?”

Fred and George gaped and then disappeared for the entire weekend, explosions came from their room at odd hours of the day and night. Lee slept on the couch in the common room that weekend.

Eventually, the truth came out. Fred and George nervously told him about Mrs Weasley’s orders to tail Harry and keep an eye on him. 

“Whatever for? I thought your mother didn't like me?” Harry lounged on the spare bed in the twins’ room. Lee was off trying to woo Alicia Spinnet.

Fred shrugged, scratching his nose, “No idea. Said Dumbledore asked her to do it and she passed the ‘mission’ on to us.”

“That’s… slightly creepy and a little disturbing.”

“Yeah, she wrote to Ron, Ginny and Percy too. Probably why Ron keeps asking you about Sirius Black. Ginny actually likes you and told Mum she wouldn't do it. Told her she had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on since she missed most of her first year. Shut Mum right up.”

“What about Percy?”

Fred snorted, “Percy couldn’t give a rat’s arse about you. All he wants is to be the best Humongous Bighead ever. Aiming for a position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

It seemed like Fred and George knew something that Harry didn't and he got tired of their questioning looks over dinner. Ignoring Ron and Hermione - who were bickering about Scabbers and Crookshanks again - he hissed at the older boys, “What are you looking at? Why d’you two look like you know something I don't?”

“Well… we’re waiting for you to tell us actually,” whispered George.

“What?!” But Ron had literally dragged Harry back into the argument. He examined Fred and George discretely over the next couple of days, and their eyes seemed to dart across to the Slytherin table more often than not. They didn't know, did they?  _ How _ would they know?

Harry went off for his meeting with the Slytherins, fondly calling their little group The Silver Circle to Draco’s utmost horror. He spoke to them about the Weasley twins and whether they'd be all right with adding the two into their little motley crew. Blaise had blurted out “Absolutely!” before anybody could say anything. Pansy and Draco scrutinised Blaise intensely until the dark boy blushed - which was saying something because Blaise was so dark you could never tell - and then proceeded to give Harry their permission. Harry, Vince and Greg looked at each other in confusion and shrugged at the Silver Trio’s antics.

Harry told Fred and George about the Slytherins, and to his utmost confusion and indignation, they had replied “We know.”

“How do you know? Does the whole bloody school know? They could get into serious trouble!”

“Relax Harry,” Fred said, “We’ve got this special thing that lets us know where everybody is every hour of every day. And when we were following you around, we used it to track you and saw you hanging out with a bunch of Slytherins.”

Harry spluttered, “Does anybody  _ else  _ have access to this thing? What is it?”

George has uttered cheekily, “It’s one of our pranking tools. Don't ask us to give away our secrets, Harold. Anyway, the thing only works for people who have the password - so just me and Freddie.”

Harry huffed irritably but was appeased. He introduced Fred and George to the Slytherins. Blaise eagerly introduced himself to both of them and Fred responded in kind. While he and Blaise were talking about some prank or other, Pansy introduced herself to George, who - shockingly - bowed at the waist and kissed her hand.

“I thought the Weasleys were disinclined towards pureblood customs,” she said. George grinned cheerfully, “We are.”

Pansy proceeded to talk Charms with George. Harry and Draco were a bit put off that their friends were getting along splendidly and ignoring them. Vince and Greg had immediately challenged the Weasleys to an Exploding Snap game and the four of them arrived to dinner with singed eyebrows.

Fred and George began to spend more time apart from each other, and the population of Hogwarts were stunned to see George come into the Great Hall for lunch one day without Fred by his side. The twins spent a lot of time with the Slytherins, and Pansy tried to get them to study for their OWLs properly. They refused to do anything that wasn't Charms, Transfiguration, Potions or DADA, but they excelled at those, so Pansy wasn't too worried about their lack of job opportunities or NEWT level subjects.

Blaise and Fred liked to disappear off for hours at a time on the weekends and when Draco asked Fred what they were up to, Fred had grinned and said they were collecting potions ingredients. Harry rolled his eyes, they really  _ did _ collect potions ingredients. Harry had no idea what they were so happy about.

George and Pansy had sighed in exasperation when Harry asked them about it. They were charming the old music room to be spotless and clean again. Harry lay on the newly cleaned desk and looked at Pansy in question.

“Harry,” she sighed, “Has Blaise talked to you about his preferences?”

Harry scrunched up his nose, “Yeah, he says he’s gay, which I assume you both know since he tells me he tells everyone that. He keeps telling me I’m bisexual.”

George rolled his eyes, “Well, Harold, Fred has the same preferences, though I’m not sure he realises.”

Harry cleaned his glasses on his shirt, “So, what? They're gay best friends now?”

Pansy and George exchanged a long-suffering look. Three… two… one…

“WAIT. THEY’RE  _ TOGETHER _ ?”

“No, Harry. But I’m pretty sure Blaise likes Fred,” Pansy said, before banishing the dust that covered the tabletops.

“And Freddie doesn't know he plays for the same team yet,” said George, “Pretty sure Blaise can sense his inert gayness, so he’s trying to bring it out.”

“Fred just thinks Blaise is really cool. He doesn't realise it's attraction or destiny.”

George made a face, “Oh gross Pans, don't use words like ‘ _ destiny’,  _ you sound like those romance novels my mum reads.”

Harry appraised them through narrowed eyes, “So... are you two a thing then?”

Pansy and George looked at each other, cocked their heads simultaneously as if considering it, and then laughed like Harry had told a hilarious joke. Harry huffed.

George wiped a tear from his eye, “Good one, mate. But don't worry, me and Pansy are just friends.”

“And not the way Blaise and Fred are ‘friends’ so don't even ask, Potter.”

Harry pouted and George laughed. George slung an arm over Harry and they walked to Gryffindor tower.

“Come on, we’ve got Quidditch training in a bit and I don't doubt that Oliver will yell if we’re late.”

“D’you think Fred will make it back on time?”

“Nope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost forgot to post today! school's catching up on me and it's taking a priority. I haven't managed to churn out chapters in a week ): my classmates are exiling me to the position of 'class loner' and i honestly want to drive my laptop through their thick, immature skulls. thank god for fanfiction. and old friends. always thankful for old friends.
> 
> i'm batblade on tumblr, check me out despite irregular posting.


	12. Hogsmeade, Part 1

“ _Harry_ ,” Ron whined, “come on! Just get the cloak and walk out! No one even has to know.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “All right! All right! I’ll do it. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Hermione sniffed, “I still don't think you should do it Harry. They gave us permission slips for a reas -”

“Oh come off it ‘Mione! Harry’s got an _invisibility cloak._ Might as well use it. We’ll see you in a bit mate! Don't take too long!”

With that, Ron dashed away, pulling Hermione with him. Harry sighed; forlorn. He knew Ron and Hermione only wanted to keep a close eye on him, as per Dumbledore's orders. They weren't very good at it, from the way Harry managed to escape them for hours at a time without them finding him.

The Silver Circle had puffed up in anger when Harry had told him about Ron’s spying habit. It had taken an hour for Harry to talk Draco down from hexing Ron senseless. And he only agreed because Fred and George were still Ron’s brothers. The Slytherins were all willing to stay behind with Harry, but Harry had steadfastly refused and demanded they go to Hogsmeade. Fred and George were staying behind with Harry, and no matter how much Harry tried to bargain, the Silver Circle said it was either all of them or only the twins. Harry had reluctantly chosen the twins to their delight.

He walked up to the dorm, grabbed his haversack and put on his invisibility cloak. Trudging through the snowy grounds of Hogwarts, he saw Fred and George building a snowman in the courtyard. He went behind a pillar, looked around for anybody watching, and took off his cloak. Stuffing it in his haversack, he walked to Fred and George.

They looked up at him at the same time, “Harry!”

“Fred. George. I think I’ve got a way for me to get out of Hogwarts.”

“Why Harry!” George exclaimed dramatically, “We were about to say the same thing!”

“What?”

The twins hooked their arms into Harry's and jigged all the way back into the castle, to the amusement of the students they passed. They dragged him up into their dorm.

“Why’ve you got two empty beds by the way?”

“Well Harold,” came Fred’s muffled voice from underneath his bed, “George and I are not exactly the best roommates to have -”

“- Lee’s our friend and he’s almost as bad as us, so he’s okay with it -”

“- but the rest of the Fifth year boys aren't as happy with having to share a room with the greatest pranksters since the Marauders -”

Harry startled. _The Marauders._ Remus had told Harry of their adventures. His father, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and Remus. Harry thought any trace of their adventures was long gone, only to be shared by Remus and tainted by the deaths of two best friends and the betrayal of one.

“The Marauders?” Harry asked innocently.

George popped up from his bed, waving a folded piece of parchment in the air, “Found it Freddie!”

“Excellent!” Fred popped up, a dirty sock atop his fiery hair. Harry giggled and Fred shook his head, dislodging the sock. George gave Harry the piece of parchment.

“What's this rubbish?”

Fred gasped, “‘ _What's this rubbish_ ’ he says! This, dear Harold, is the secret to our success.”

“This is the thing that tells you where everybody is?”

“Every hour -”

“Of every minute -”

“Of every day!”

Harry stared at the twins worriedly, “You do realise this is a blank piece of parchment.”

They rolled their eyes simultaneously. Fred tapped his wand to the parchment and ink began to spread. Harry yelped and dropped it - it reminded him too much of Tom Riddle’s Diary.

George had dived after the map, scandalised. “Harry!”

“Are you sure that thing isn't sentient? It looks exactly like that bloody diary did.”

Fred and George paled and George chucked the parchment away from them.

“W-We didn't know that's what the diary did,” Fred stuttered, terrified.

“What’s written on it?” Harry asked calmly, going into his Saviour mode.

“It’s called the Marauders’ Map -”

Harry immediately relaxed. “Oh. I’m sorry. False alarm. You can pick it up, it’s safe.”

Fred and George looked quite frightened so Harry picked up the map himself. Written on it as clear as day:

**Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the Marauders’ Map.**

Harry snorted, “Moony. Oh, he’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

The Map suddenly changed layout, and then written in the middle:

**Messr Moony would like to inquire what is so funny about his name.**

**Messr Prongs would like to say that anyone making fun of Messr Moony’s name would get a kick to the face.**

**Messr Padfoot would like to add in a great big chewing out.**

**Messr Wormtail would like to know who made fun of Messr Moony.**

Fred and George had come over and looked at the Map, “Oh yeah, it did that when we first got it too.”

“Had to tell them we were pranksters before they let us in.”

“Geniuses they were. Whoever they were. We owe them so much.”

Harry smirked and decided to give Fred and George the revelation of their lives. He cleared his throat.

“I am Harry Potter.”

On the map, the ink reformed:

**Potter?**

“Yes. I am Harry Potter, son of James Potter.”

Fred and George were extremely intrigued by now, the Map had never responded this way before. Harry felt a tingling sensation rush up his fingertips.

The Map turned blank, and then:

**Welcome to the Marauders’ Map, Harry Potter, son of Prongs. The password is ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good’.**

Fred and George looked at Harry in awe.

Fred asked breathlessly, “Son of Prongs?”

Harry smirked and then Fred and George had fallen to their knees, “All hail the heir of the Marauders. May you guide us in your mischievous ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! i posted a day early!
> 
> let's have a poll shall we? tell me your favourite character in this story so far and we'll see who's the most popular!


	13. Hogsmeade, Part 2

Once they were done, they huddled over the Map.

“So?” George asked excitedly, “How’d you know about the Marauders? We only found out about them during detention with Filch.”

“You know Professor Lupin?”

Fred rolled his eyes, “What, he was the Prefect that hounded the Marauders?”

Harry smirked, “Well, you've met Moony.”

Fred gasped and George fell off the bed. He choked out from the floor, “Professor Lupin is  _ Moony?” _

“Yes,” Harry said primly.

The twins looked at each other in awe, “I’m  _ so _ glad we do his homework.”

Then Fred sobered, “So… Padfoot and Wormtail…”

Harry’s voice hardened, “Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.”

Fred nodded. The silence was sticking for a moment, but then Harry chirped, “So, what was your idea for getting out of the castle?”

“Right,” said George authoritatively, “There are seven secret passages out of Hogwarts -”

“- three of them have collapsed, we’ve checked -”

“- there’s one under the Whomping Willow but we haven't got a clue how to get in or where it goes to -”

“- there’s this one behind the mirror -”

“That one’s caved in Fred.”

“By golly, you’re right! Didn't remember that one.”

“Anyway, the way for us to get to Hogsmeade is through the one-eyed witch passage -”

“Yeah it’ll take us straight through to Honeydukes cellar.”

“Us?” Harry asked in surprise, “You two can walk straight out without anyone batting an eyelid. You've got permission slips!”

Fred scratched his nose, “We aren't too fond of the Dementors prowling about. Anyway, what was your thing to share?”

Harry grinned and reached for his haversack. He pulled out the invisibility cloak, proudly presenting it to Fred and George.

“A wizard's cloak,” George deadpanned.

Harry’s grin widened and he put the cloak around him, disappearing up till his head. Fred and George gaped at him.

“Merlin! That's an invisibility cloak!” George exclaimed excitedly.

Harry took it off and put in back into his haversack. “Yeah, I reckon we could all fit inside if the two of you bend down a little.”

“Sweet.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Harry and the twins ran through the castle, ignoring the suspicious looks on the Professors faces. Harry grinned at Remus as they tore past the DADA classroom. Remus looked at the three troublemakers in bewilderment. 

They finally reached the statue of the one-eyed witch. Checking the Map to make sure no one was around, Fred tapped his wand to the hump and whispered, “ _ Dissendium _ .”

They slid down the passageway and trekked slowly towards Hogsmeade, discussing their plans. “I'm going to Zonko’s first. We’re running low on stink bombs. Freddie’s probably going to find his snake -”

“Blaise is not my snake!”

Harry and George shared a look and said at the same time, “He sort of is, mate.”

Fred frowned petulantly and Harry and George erupted into peals of laughter. The trio fell silent as they approached the end of the tunnel. The twins - being more muscular - lifted up the stone floor an inch to scout the area. Mr Honeyduke was just leaving the cellar, ambling up the stairs. They waited for him to leave and then the twins lifted the stone gate off and to the side. George grumbled, “Should put a latch and a Lightening Charm on that thing. We’ll do that tomorrow all right lads?”

Fred and Harry grunted in exertion, pulling the floor piece back into place. Harry quickly took out the invisibility cloak and threw it over Fred, who was closest. “You next George.” 

He had the twins crouch until their feet couldn't be seen and then got under the cloak himself.

“Harry!” George exclaimed in a posh London accent, “Fancy seeing you here, old boy! However did you find us?”

Harry giggled and shushed them, “It’s an invisibility cloak, not a sound-proof cloak. Come on.”

The trio of mischief makers climbed awkwardly up the stairs and brushed past Mrs Honeyduke as she was tending the counter. She squeaked in shock, but when she whirled around and didn't see anything she shrugged it off. The trio made their way to the exit, dodging students left, right and centre. It was surprisingly easy. Harry supposed the twins made up for their bulky statures by being incredibly stealthy and cat-like.

Once out of Honeyduke’s, they shuffled into a back alley away from prying eyes, and Fred and George stepped out from the cloak. Harry lowered it to his neck as the twins righted their clothes. Fred grinned maniacally at Harry’s floating head, “That was fun, we should do it again sometime. Well, I’m off. See you gents back at Hogwarts.”

Fred ran off and George snickered. He looked to Harry, “Zonko's?”

Harry nodded and put the invisibility cloak back on. George walked seemingly alone to Zonko’s, raising eyebrows amongst the students and Hogsmeade residents. The Weasley twins were quite infamous as a duo. Harry saw Ron and Hermione and ducked behind George, despite his invisibility.

“Oi Fred!” called Ron, wrongly identifying the present twin, “Where’s George?”

“Where do you think he is Ronniekins? Zonko’s of course. Really Ron, I’d thought with the amount of time you spent with Granger you’d be able to deduce that.”

Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione huffed indignantly, “You seen Harry?”

George spoke slowly, like he was speaking to someone incredibly stupid, “Harry isn't allowed to come to Hogsmeade Ronnie, so no.”

Harry almost couldn't hold in his snicker.

Ron narrowed his eyes, “Weren't you supposed to be watching him in the castle? Why are you and George here?”

George picked at his nails, “Well, he went up to the dorm, and then we couldn't find him afterwards so we thought he might've gone to talk to Ginny or something.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged an obvious look and Harry rolled his eyes. It was a wonder the whole population of Hogsmeade didn't know Harry was there. 

George and Harry left the two third years after George recommended they check out the Shrieking Shack. They passed Draco, Vince and Greg, who ignored George as per protocol - though Draco threw him a glare that said,  _ we are going to talk about this later  _ and  _ I can’t believe you left Harry alone _ \- and brushed past, whispering and laughing. Harry smiled fondly, but George was staring after them, watching the Slytherin trio turn down the path to the Shrieking Shack.

“Harry,” George mumbled, his lips only parting slightly, “I think you should follow Draco. I’ve got a feeling he’s about to revert to his pratty tendencies.”

Harry whispered into George’s ear, “It’s fine, George. Draco’s not the same guy we knew -”

“Harry, I know the two of you are chums, and I _ like _ Draco, I really do. But he’s still pro-pureblood and he still has that mean streak, even if it’s no longer targeted at you,” George fiddled with his pocket so he wouldn’t look like he was awkwardly standing around, “He’s still the same person Harry - that hasn’t changed. You’re just seeing the nicer side of him. He’s still prejudiced and mean and vicious. But you  _ can _ curb that at least. Hurry, I have a _ very bad _ feeling.”

Harry didn’t see what George’s issue was, but it couldn’t hurt to follow. He could hang out with Draco, Vince and Greg if George was just being paranoid. He walked briskly through the snow, following the path the Slytherin trio had taken towards the Shrieking Shack. He spotted the trio swaggering up the hill, and was about to call out when he saw two figures standing atop it, looking at the Shack. Was that - was that Ron and Hermione? Harry realised with startling clarity that Draco, Vince and Greg were headed straight for them.

“God damn it George,” he cursed and ran straight for the hill. He couldn’t risk calling out to Draco because it would blow their cover, and if he called out to Ron and Hermione at this rate, Draco, Vince and Greg would hear it in full view of the two of them and their ‘cover’ would be blown. No matter what, their cover would be blown. And the bloody annoying thing was that Harry could give a rat’s arse about revealing his friendship with the Slytherins, were it not for the unfair and biased House separations, the political climate in Slytherin and in the Pureblood Society. He valued his friends’ safety above all else, but they weren’t making it easy for him to keep them safe.

George was right; Harry  _ knew _ Draco. He experienced Draco’s nastiness and viciousness first hand. He was cruel and cutting without even trying, and he was a right bloody impulsive git. Vince and Greg were followers, not leaders. He couldn’t blame them because Draco was the ‘top dog’ in Slytherin Third Year. Slytherin politics confused him, but he knew enough that power was important in Slytherin. Power equated to respect and authority. And Draco, the bloody idiot, was trying to assert his dominance - or something equally stupid - over Ron and Hermione, the ‘top dogs’ of Gryffindor. 

Harry groaned, because what made it worse was that the Weasleys and Malfoys had been feuding for generations, so Draco had a natural bias against Ron - the epitome of Weasley-ness. Not only that, but Draco was raised to a mindset of irrational bias against Muggleborns. And what Draco liked to do with these biases was increase his targeting of said biases. Meaning: he would effortlessly and viciously attack Ron and Hermione’s weak points, and things would escalate and Harry didn’t want to deal with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! shout-out to melaniemart-inez on tumblr. she likes drarry a lot. check out savingstrider if you haven't and my tumblr is batblade, hit me up!
> 
> ANGST IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS WAHAHAHA. savingstrider says it's "character development" but I call it "what the fuckity fuck is happening in their brains?" (: hope you look forward to it.


	14. The Shrieking Shack

“Weaselbee, Mudblood, looking for a family home?” Draco mocked as he, Vince and Greg approached the Gryffindor duo.

“You shut your mouth Malfoy,” Weasel yelled. Granger was eyeing them haughtily, but not without a little fear in her eyes. Draco  _ relished _ it.

Draco tutted loftily, “ _ Goodness _ , did Mummy never teach you manners? Well I suppose in between having ridiculous amounts of children and stuffing her face -”

Weasel lunged at him, but Granger held him back. Vince and Greg loomed menacingly, cracking their knuckles. Weasel stood his ground, shaking Granger’s hand off his arm. Draco smirked.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy, or I’ll hex you until even Mummy dearest won’t look at you,” Granger sneered. Draco blinked in shock, and then narrowed his eyes in anger.

“How  _ dare _ you speak of my mother, you filthy little  _ mudblood _ !”

Weasel smirked, and Draco cursed internally, knowing he’d given them ammunition. “Oh, is the little albino afraid his Mummy won’t love him anymore? Well at least she’d be normal then, bloody inbred and mental as she is now.”

Draco growled in furious rage, and Weasel’s smirk grew. His blue eyes narrowed at Draco, and he sneered, “Don’t like it when it’s  _ your _ Mum now, do you?”

Draco drew his wand, uncaring of the underage magic restriction and the Diffindo charm about to leave his lips when, suddenly, his vision was obscured, and he felt a sludgy something dripping down his face. Draco coughed and spat out, disgusted. He wiped his face with the back of his favourite gloves, spitting mad. All of them whirled around, looking for the unknown attacker.

“Who’s there! Show yourself you coward!” Draco hissed.

A moment later, mud smacked into Vince’s arm. And then Greg was pelted right in the chest. Weasel and Granger were laughing their arses off - unmuddied and clean. The mud stopped then and Draco looked around in fright. He tripped over suddenly and as he landed on his back in the hard snow, he thought he might’ve had a concussion because Harry Potter’s floating head was looking down on him in amusement.

And Draco felt like something had shattered inside him, but he didn’t know what. He just felt so  _ stupid _ . Weasel and Granger were laughing even harder now, and Draco was covered in mud, in disarray, humiliated, in pain and  _ betrayed _ . He felt Vince and Greg pull him up. It felt like it’d been minutes since he saw Harry’s floating face but in reality, it was mere seconds. Vince muttered, “Draco. Let’s go.” Vince and Greg hurriedly ushered Draco away, but not before Draco looked over his shoulder, eyes connecting with Potter’s and he didn’t know what emotion he had allowed past his pureblood mask, but Potter suddenly didn’t look so amused. Draco couldn’t understand it. He didn’t want to so much as look at Potter anymore, let alone be near him. What was happening to him? 

He shrugged out of Vince’s grip and ran off back to the castle, ignoring Vince and Greg calling out and trying to follow. He pushed past numerous Hogwarts students, ignoring their cries of indignation and surprise at his dirty state. He swore he heard someone  _ laughing _ . He ignored George as he bolted past, as per protocol. He ignored Fred and Blaise in their secluded spot near the path to Hogwarts, ignored them calling his name. He brushed past Pansy and Millicent in the Slytherin common room, keeping his eyes to the floor, his vision blurry. Draco stalked up to his dorm, cast a silent cleaning spell, and sank heavily onto his bed. 

His vision was blurring and his lungs felt like they weren’t working. A frantic knock at the door startled him but he ignored it. He felt like he really wanted to be left alone right now. The door opened anyway, and he turned to see Pansy, Blaise and two unknown upper years striding into the room. When Pansy saw him, she gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

“Close the door and lock it,” she whispered to one of the unknown upper years. Draco blinked rapidly to clear his vision (he couldn’t let the upper years have an advantage over him) and was startled to feel something on his cheek. He faintly heard someone murmuring a spell to lock the door as he touched his cheek and it came away wet. Was- Was he  _ crying _ ? He couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Father had always -

“Oh Draco, what happened?” Pansy cooed softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, like Mother used to do when he was little and Father wasn’t home.

He roughly wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his coat, ignoring Pansy’s tutting. He looked up and glared at the upper years, but was surprised to see Fred and George in their stead. He looked away from them quickly, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

George - at least he thought it was George - stepped forward and sat beside him, “Mate…  _ Draco _ . Does this have anything to do with Harry?”

Draco looked up in panic, “How do you know? Does everyone know now? Bloody  _ fu _ -”

“Draco,  _ please _ ,” Pansy said, “What happened?”

He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t want to talk to Pansy and Blaise with the Weasley twins standing there. What happened had involved their brother after all. He looked forward blankly, wiping all trace of emotion from his face, his perfect pureblood mask barely hanging on by a thread.

“It involves your brother. I doubt you’d want to hear anything that paints him in a negative light.”

Fred sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand, “Draco, we are his brothers, but  _ you _ are our  _ friend _ . Just - just tell us what happened and we promise - no, we  _ swear _ that we won’t ditch our friendship with you - with  _ any of you _ \- for it.”

He and George put their hands over their hearts, a distinctly pureblood gesture. Draco had barely nodded his acceptance before he was heaving into Pansy’s pink blouse. 

“W-We saw Weasel and Granger. I got m-mad.”

He sniffled and dropped his face into his hands, “They’d left Harry all alone. I-I…”

“It’s okay, Draco. What happened after?” Pansy asked, stroking his head.

“W-We followed th-them. Went to the - the Shrieking Shack. I started the fight. Said all the u-usual things. Called Granger a Mudblood.”

Fred and George winced, but George took Draco’s hands away from his face. Surprisingly, Draco let him. George held Draco’s hand in his, rubbing soothing motions, like he had seen Bill do with Ginny.

“Granger… she said something about Mother… and I-I just saw red. And I reacted stupidly - not at all like a pureblood. And Weasel picked up on it and he used Mother against me. Insulted her. He called her  _ mental _ ! He called her _ inbred _ ! Bloody bastard.  _ He knows nothing!” _

Draco clenched his hand tight in anger, causing George to wince. Draco had stopped crying and was ranting furiously, his tone sharp and cutting and cold. He stood up in rage.

“And then out of  _ nowhere _ I have mud thrown in my face! And then Vince got hit and then Greg got hit and then I fell. And then fucking _ Potter’s _ face is looking down at me and smirking. His head was floating! What the bloody fuck is going on? Am I losing my mind? And then I don’t know what happened. I just - I felt like something inside me broke. _ I don’t have a bloody clue what’s going on _ !”

He slumped suddenly, tears flooding in, continued to choke out despite his friends’ shock, “He fucking - he fucking  _ humiliated _ us in front of Weasel and Granger. Threw mud at us. Brought us down to Granger’s level. Didn’t do a  _ thing _ to stop Weasel or Granger, no. He took  _ us _ out instead. Potter was never our friend. Probably thought it’d be fun to drag us down from the inside. The whole school will know about it by tomorrow. Everyone in Hogsmeade probably saw us. We’re  _ ruined _ . All respect, all power -  _ gone _ ! Weasel and Granger won’t shut up about it. Potter will probably encourage them, the bloody Gryffindor bastard.”

He sobbed and rasped softly, “I _ hate _ him.”

Blaise interrupted, kneeling down in front of his distraught friend- he’d never seen a pureblood behave like this before, but he tried his best to help Draco, “Draco. You don’t mean that. It couldn’t have been Harry -”

“It’s  _ Potter _ , Blaise. He never was Harry. That was all  _ fake _ . A trick to get him inside our heads -”

“Draco!” Pansy said firmly, though her voice shook, “That is not true. Harry’s our friend Draco. You know him best out of all of us, except maybe Fred and George -”

“I THOUGHT I KNEW HIM! I DIDN’T! I BLOODY WELL DIDN’T,” Draco stood up abruptly and shouted.

“HE LAUGHED AT ME PANSY. HE KNEW HOW MUCH HE HUMILIATED ME. HE THREW MUD AT ME. HE’S PROBABLY SPREADING WORD OF OUR COMPLETE FALL FROM GRACE WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD THAT WE ARE GOING TO SUFFER FOR IT. WHAT WILL MY FATHER THINK? I’M _ DEAD _ PANSY!”

Draco whirled around and aimed his wand at Fred, who raised his hands up, palms open in surrender, completely shocked. Blaise drew his wand, though he wavered in his aim.

“He’s probably sent these two to come spy on us.  _ Friends _ , what a bloody load of Gryffindor cra -”

Fred suddenly slapped Draco, to everyone’s great shock. Draco looked at the Weasley, flabbergasted, a pale hand to his reddening cheek. Fred shocked everyone further by grabbing Draco and pulling him into an awkward hug. 

“You stupid, albino prat. Ignore Harry for now all right? Me and Georgie - we’re your friends too. We’re not spying on you, you bloody idiot. For some unfathomable reason, we do like you quite a bit. Trust me, if anyone said  _ anything _ about you, or Vince, or Greg - we’d take them down. And if Lucius Malfoy does  _ anything _ to you, you’re always welcome at ours. This is all _ real  _ Draco.”

Draco stiffened in Fred’s embrace, but after a few seconds he broke down and clutched the taller boy’s shirt, crying into Fred’s shoulder. He let out all the fear of rejection, all the fear of impending pain, all the tears he had held back in the face of an ugly society. He promised himself as he squeezed his last tears out, that he’d never bottle things up again, because why not talk about things and accept help, instead of bursting out in embarrassing episodes and having to turn to  _ Weasleys _ for comfort. What would his grandfather say? 

The others let them be as Fred murmured reassurances of ‘cry it out’ and ‘it’s all right’ until Draco pulled away. 

“...I’m... sorry. I’ve been a right prat to you two.”

“No hard feelings, mate,” George said lightly, hugging Draco with one arm, “Now, what are you going to do about Harry?”

Draco shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. He realised that he was still in his coat and shoes. Perhaps he should hold off on the ‘talking about things’ idea. “I don’t want to talk to him. Or about him. Give me a few days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this angsty enough? I wouldn't know. Because my angst tolerance is chilli sauce on a scale of tobasco to the Carolina Reaper. feedback is welcome, this chapter made me uncomfortable but it felt right. gotta hit rock bottom before you climb back up and all that. 
> 
> i hope i didn't reach crybaby draco, though savingstrider says I didn't, I almost did? idk i want him to be a real person suffering real societal ingrained fears, you know what i mean?
> 
> ... yeah yall can probably tell i'm insecure af about this chappie.


	15. The Gryffindor Common Room

Harry scowled in desperation and irritation. He’d been a bloody insensitive idiot. After the Hogsmeade trip, he returned to the castle with Ron and Hermione, and when the Gryffindor duo tried make fun of the Slytherins to Seamus and Lavender about what happened at the Shack, Harry scowled at them, “If you two think he’s such a bully, why are you being just like him?”

Ron had been disgusted at himself and yelled that he’d never do such a thing. Hermione had tried and failed to lecture Harry about Slytherin purebloods.

“You’re sounding an awfully lot like them Hermione,” Ron had scolded, “See? They’re already infecting us with their Slytherin ways.”

Hermione flushed an ugly red and fell silent. Harry tried to leave to look for Draco, but Hermione and Ron were insisting he tell them every single detail of the conversation in the pub. By the time Hermione had relented her line of questioning, it was past curfew, and Fred and George hadn’t bothered helping him that night. Harry went up to bed early, but found himself unable to sleep. 

He waited for Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville to fall asleep, their heavy breathing and Ron’s snores filling the dorm before he slipped down to the common room again. There was no one there and the fire was down to embers, casting the room in moonlight from the open windows and the flickers of a dying fire. Harry sank heavily into the plush armchair by the fire, staring into it, thinking and thinking. Soft footsteps padding on the stone stairs drew him out of his reverie.

Fred and George slipped down the stairs, their pajama bottoms slung low on their hips and their night shirts threadbare and loose. They padded over to Harry and sat on the armrests. Harry sighed, avoiding their gazes, “I’m guessing you got to Draco before I could then?”

“What happened Harry?” George asked.

“I followed them like you told me. But I was too far away when the confrontation started. I couldn’t shout or anything, because it would blow our cover. It’d risk the Slytherins. And I didn’t know how to interfere without anything going to shit.”

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, trying to control his panic that the best friends and only family he’d ever known would both drop him like a hat. He couldn’t cry. He didn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Living with the Dursleys had much more effect on him than he’d realised.

“I don’t know, I saw mud and mud is pretty harmless right? And I just threw it, I wasn’t aiming at anyone or anything. But it landed on Draco, and I don’t know. I thought it was funny. Hermione told me she used to play in the mud as a child. So I threw some at Vince and Greg too because I thought it was funny. I guess I didn’t focus on Hermione and Ron too much.”

He felt caged in, in between the twins. He wouldn’t be able to run away from them in this position. He tilted his head down, looking at their strong arms in his peripheral vision. He knew how much damage they could do, had seen them take out countless Quidditch players when whacking bludgers about during Quidditch season. He knew even Vernon’s fat arms packed a punch on his small body. Harry moved slowly, keeping the twins in his vision as he moved away from the window and the fireplace. He felt for his wand and was comforted by its weight in his pocket against his palm. At least he had magic here.

The twins watched him with some kind of caution and bewilderment. He breathed.

“Draco tripped over the cloak. I got revealed. Hermione and Ron thought I'd been pulling one over Draco. I thought it was  _ funny _ ; that he would see the humour in it. But he kinda just looked at me like I broke his spine. Like I was the worst tr- _ traitor _ in the world.”

Harry could feel his head spinning. He wasn't like Sirius Black. He  _ wasn't.  _ He started to breathe rapidly, black spots appearing at the edge of his vision. What was happening?

Fred and George recognised the signs, and launched forwards. Harry flinched and backed up rapidly, pressing himself against the wall next to the portrait hole. His wand was out of his pocket and aimed, though his hand was shaking. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind, but his glazed eyes seemed to see Fred and George anyway. 

They both put their hands up, George whispered, “Harry. Harry. We’re not going to hurt you. Please. Let us help.”

“You don't mean that.  _ They never mean it _ .”

“Harry,” Fred pleaded, “please. Look, you’re having a panic attack. Georgie and I helped Ginny through them, we can help you, but only if you let us Harry.”

“Harry, breathe. Look at us, we’re  _ not going to hurt you _ . See?”

They both took large steps back, hands still in the air. They were shaking a bit themselves, caught up in the emotional trauma of two of their friends.

Harry gasped out, his face turning blue, “You didn't help me tonight. You don't want to help me.”

George took a step forward and Harry trained his wand on him, “Harry, I’m sorry. We had just spoken to Draco and - and we were confused.”

“I’m sorry too. But Harry, you're our brother, our best friend. We would never hurt you. You're the only one who can tell us apart. And because of you, other people are beginning to as well.”

“Harry,” George said softly, taking a step forward, “Come here, let me help.”

Harry was turning blue and sinking to the floor, unable to breathe. His heart was beating fast - too fast and he was losing his vision. He suddenly felt careful hands on him and around him and then he was on the floor and George was whispering nonsense into his ear and Fred was rubbing his back. He could hear two heartbeats, not in sync but complementing each other so it was a steady  _ thump thump thump thump _ that filled his ears and he felt his heart slow to match their slow breathing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay more suffering!!!!!
> 
> batblade on tumblr, i also have an edit sideblog called furrylittleproblemsquared. I don't post much there but yeh maybe you guys will like it?


	16. The Kitchens

“Oi Malfoy, get us some sweeties from the kitchens won’t you?” mocked the Murtaugh heir, and King of Slytherin. Draco sneered back but went to do so anyway. Draco had fallen from grace. Every third-year and up Slytherin had seen him, Vince and Greg streaked with mud. The hierarchy had changed that night. He was no longer anywhere near the top of Slytherin. He was somewhere down at the bottom, just above some of the second years. Vince and Greg had lost their standing too.

Draco had received a disgusted letter from Father, condemning him and demanding he regain his family honour. How  _ dare _ the heir to the Malfoy throne disgrace his family, allowing himself to be brought down to the level of  _ mudbloods _ and  _ Muggles _ . Even his Mother had sent him a strongly-worded letter, and that was no help any. Draco clenched his jaw as he slipped through the shadows towards the kitchens. 

It was two weeks since he had fallen, and he was still trying to earn back whatever standing he had lost.  _ Fall before the rise, fall before the rise _ , he chanted it like a mantra in his head as he asked the house-elves for some treats. Murtaugh would get it from him one day, when Draco ascended to the top of the ladder. 

His only company now was Vince and Greg, and even then, he knew they were pissed off at him for dragging them down with him. Pansy could no longer be seen in his company, for she might suffer from a demotion in standing as the most powerful in third and fourth year. Blaise, despite his indifference to social norms, knew that to be seen with a disgraced Slytherin was like asking for social suicide.

Draco tried to hold back his anger. This was all bloody Potter’s fault. He never should have trusted him. Fred and George Weasley were  _ slightly _ better, but he knew despite their words and promises, that they were firmly on Potter’s side and would do anything to help Potter.

Potter chased Draco down every day since the trip. Curse that _wretched_ _half-blood_ \- he could find Draco when Draco was alone and in the deepest and loneliest parts of the dungeons. Draco had steadfastly and coldly ignored the damn fool. Potter launched dozens upon dozens of platitudes at him and Draco could not bring it in himself to care. Potter had betrayed him, and he would _pay_. He knew Pansy and Blaise had refused to speak to Potter for these two weeks, and he was grateful he had loyal friends in them. Vince and Greg were vicious in their hatred and if it weren’t for Fred and George holding them back, Potter would be a pile of flesh and bone on the floor of the dungeons.

Draco winced, and he hated himself for it. Whatever Potter had told him about his home-life - was it true? Even if it was, should Draco be disgusted with himself for feeling tormented at the thought of Potter being bruised and beaten? He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts away. And that was when Potter found him  _ again, curse the bloody son of a b- _

“Draco?” Potter asked hesitantly. Draco ignored the  _ deceitful, patronising _ -

“Draco, please, it’s been two weeks, I’ve said I’m sorry at least a  _ hundred times _ ! What more do I have to do to get you to forgive me?” Potter exclaimed in frustration.

_ Draco snapped. _

“How  _ bloody fucking dare you, you pompous, big-headed, bampot _ ! I have  _ fallen _ from my standing in Slytherin,  _ disgraced _ my family name,  _ dragged _ two of my compatriots down with me, and you think this will all be solved with your  _ worthless worded apologies _ ?”

Potter looked stunned, “But-”

Draco snarled, getting up in Potter’s face, “You think this is about  _ you? HA _ ! You have  _ always _ thought yourself too bloody important. You think  _ words _ can fix whatever has happened? You think you can go up to  _ Ignatius Murtaugh _ and tell him to stop exerting his rightful power over me? You think that with your god forsaken apologies you can redeem me in the eyes of society?  _ My father is threatening to disown me! _ You think your pretty words can stop that?”

Potter gulped, “Draco -”

“I have lost  _ everything _ , Potter. You have dragged me down while you remain standing, and  _ nothing _ you say will help me up again. Now leave me alone, because you’re just making it easier for me to off myself.”

With that Draco stormed off, still carrying Murtaugh’s goods, leaving Harry staring contemplatively after him.

Weird things started happening after that. On Wednesday, Draco came back to the common room from his hour of solitude to find Jacinthia Hamed and her little posse of third years had been shifted down the hierarchy. Meaning, Draco, Vince and Greg had been boosted up. When he discretely asked Greg what happened, Greg looked perplexed and said, “They had to go to Pomfrey because they’d been belching all through lunch.”

Draco raised a brow in surprise, “That sounds like a prank.”

Vince snorted, “Doesn’t matter. Murtaugh’s in power. What he says goes, and if he says Jacinthia Hamed brought dishonour upon Slytherin, she falls.”

Draco frowned but shrugged it off. The power dynamic was always changing in Slytherin anyway. But then on Thursday, while Draco was reading in the library, Pansy suddenly approached him. He looked at her calmly, but inwardly, he wondered what the hell she was thinking.

“Draco,” she addressed, and his eyebrows shot up of their own accord, “It seems Theodore Nott and Damian Stax got in a duel with a Ravenclaw second year. And lost.”

“What?” Draco blurted and he felt his cheeks flame when several fourth year Slytherins cast surreptitious looks over, hoping to hear the change in house politics. He knew Pansy was aware of them, and he didn’t know what she was playing at.

“My father has had...  _ words _ with yours, and you’ll be delighted to know that our families are now in shared interest in the Malfoy-Parkinson ward at St. Mungo’s.”

Draco knew what she was doing. She was placing herself on equal footing with him, and in view of witnesses. He wondered briefly if she was behind the events of today and the day before. He asked her politely, “I assume your father has asked you to tell me?”

“Yes,” Pansy smirks, “Your father made that one...  _ request _ of him after the finalisation.”

She had conceded to him, in a manner that left her one spot behind him. Draco doubted his father had really asked Parkinson Senior. He promised in his heart to pull Pansy up with him. He returned to his book, though he wasn’t reading the words on the pages. Someone was coordinating these events, and it wasn’t Pansy, judging by the indiscernible shake of a head he got when he asked his silent question. He also came to the startling realisation that Potter hadn’t sought him out yesterday, and he didn’t seem keen on seeking Draco out today. He felt a twinge of sadness, followed by a large dose of irritation. He had no time for  _ Potter _ , he still needed to crawl back up.

Two weeks passed by in the same manner, with various Slytherins above him falling from grace again and again and again. Murtaugh was uncaring of course - he was still the King, and he didn’t seem to be displeased by the reputation Slytherin was garnering in the eyes of Pureblood society.  _ One of his many faults _ , Draco thought as he inched closer and closer to his coveted position amongst the Fifth years, Murtaugh was idiotic for working against those below him, instead of with or for. The latter two would have solidified loyalty and a subtle debt-collection in the future. Draco would remember that once he became King. But it would be for some time yet.

In the meantime, Harry Potter hadn’t bothered him for two weeks. He still saw Potter in the hallways, but the Gryffindor always smiled at him and went on his way unconcerned with Draco’s scowl. Draco was bothered, and slightly suspicious. What the hell was Potter playing at?

By the time January rolled around and the holidays were over, Draco had finally reached his coveted position with some help from his mysterious benefactor, and was ranked third amongst the Fifth year students. Naturally he had pulled Pansy along with him, increasing her standing. She insisted she knew nothing about how he’d managed to regain his old position so easily. He didn’t believe her.

Every other day of the past two weeks, a Slytherin above Draco would lose their placing in their year, or be pushed down a few spots. This allowed Draco and Pansy to be pushed up almost constantly, since Murtaugh saw more problem with gaining power by working for it rather than by coincidence, the dolt he was. Slytherin had never seen a more vicious upheaval in house politics. 

Draco headed down to the kitchens, as he was wont to do since he no longer had the Silver Circle occupying his time. He briefly allowed himself to mourn the loss of a coveted network of powerful friends, but it halted as he stepped into the kitchen to find Harry Potter waiting for him.

Potter smiled at him disarmingly, and Draco bristled. He had a suspicion he now knew who had gotten him back in Slytherin’s good graces.

“I’m surprised Pansy didn’t tell you. She almost broke my neck when I approached her for help.”

Draco sneered at Potter’s arrogance, “That seems like a lesser punishment than what I would have done had she told me.”

Potter smiled sadly and for gods’ sake Draco  _ hated _ how he still wished Potter was his friend.

“Draco… you said my words and apologies held no meaning for you - and you were right.” Potter said grimly. Draco looked at him impassively, though internally he was downright perplexed.

“I brought you down with actions, it was only right I raised you up again with them,” he interrupted Draco’s protest, “I never said you rose up only because of me. I only said I helped you regain your position. I wasn’t the one that took down Montgomery, or Devin. Or -”

“Yes, I get it. Get on with it Potter,” Draco snarled half-heartedly. He was oddly touched by what Potter had done. It redeemed him… somewhat.

Potter looked down and scuffed his shoes on the floor, “I asked Pansy for the positions of power in Slytherin. Fred and George helped with some of the disgracing we pulled.”

“You were behind Jacinthia Hamed.” Draco guessed, “And what of those who fell because of other people?”

“Me, Fred and George. They’re quite good at transfiguration.”

They were silent for a moment, the elves bustling around them in muted movement. Potter looked damned pathetic, and Draco couldn’t help but want to forgive this Gryffindor idiot who’d done all that to help  _ him _ .

Potter sighed and rubbed his eye under his glasses, “Look Draco, I’ve done everything I can to prove to you I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you and I know I was a  _ huge arse _ for the - the mud thing. And I spoke to Pansy and she says Blaise, Vince and Greg will never forgive me unless you do, and I will do  _ anything _ to have you all back. Please.”

“Anything?” 

Potter nodded earnestly, though his shoulders slumped.

“What if I wanted King?” Draco whispered. Harry nodded in agreement, rummaging through his haversack and murmuring to himself, “Sure, give me two weeks. I’ve got to get more supplies, and Fred and George have to run to Zonko’s, and I need plans, but yeah I should be able to -”

“ **_Harry_ ** .”

Harry looked up in surprise. Draco stared at the Gryffindor indifferently, but he had already forgiven Harry. Draco never knew someone who would give him anything he wanted, with no benefit to themselves, if only for his time and friendship.

“If you ever do anything remotely foolish or belittling again, I will end you. And it will serve as a reminder what families I come from.”

Harry gulped, “Yes, I swear, never again.”

They looked anywhere but each other and then Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, “So, um, are we cool?”

Draco sighed, “Yes, Potter, we are ‘ _ cool _ ’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I got some constructive criticism that labelled the previous posting of Chapter 16 as anticlimatic and tbh i totally agree. I have no idea how to round up this arc of the story lmao, but I took up a suggestion from one of the readers (sorry dude, I didn't catch your username before i stupidly deleted the chapter and its comments.)
> 
> the ending of this still makes me itchy, and i may change it if i get more criticism. forgive me if it's a shitty chapter, because i only wrote it today after I read the comments. but all you need to know is that no matter how this arc ends, draco and harry are friends again yay.
> 
> I kind of need to work on remembering my characterisation. I chalk this folly up to being 15 chapters ahead where everything is fine and dandy.
> 
> feel free to leave comments, I want to know what you think and how i could make this story better. And the person who gave the suggestion - let me know who you are so i can credit you.


	17. Castle Grounds

“You’ve been awfully quiet Harry. Is something troubling you?” 

Harry looked up at Remus’ scarred face. They were walking through the Hogwarts grounds this Hogsmeade trip. The Slytherins were still chilly towards him, but it was better than the murderous glares he’d been receiving a month ago. Harry was treading very carefully around them, because he had to earn his way back into their good books before they could ever achieve the Silver Circle status they had before. It was the consequence of being friends with Slytherins, but Harry felt better knowing his friendships with them were definitely more serious.

“Ron and Hermione,” he lied, “They heard about Sirius Black being my godfather. And what he’d done.”

Remus winced, “Ah.”

“I told the Slytherins. And Fred and George.”

Remus hesitated, “Do you think it’s wise to do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m still working on my apologies. They seem to like obtaining information and ammunition. And Fred and George are my brothers.”

“Harry, about Ron and Hermione - I thought the three of you were close?”

“Oh,” Harry said carelessly, “I didn’t tell you. They’re spying on me for Molly Weasley. She reports to Dumbledore.”

“ _ What _ ?” Remus growled. Harry took a step back and Remus visibly calmed himself. “Why would Dumbledore spy on you?”

“He’s preparing to use me as a… a pawn. I told you about Quirrell and Voldemort and Tom Riddle’s Diary. Voldemort’s not really gone.” And then with more conviction, “I know it, and Dumbledore knows it. He’s going to use me as a pawn in this fight against Voldemort.”

“Dumbledore… He’s not like that Harry, he’s a great man -”

“Dumbledore made the tasks blocking the Philosopher’s Stone easy enough for three eleven year olds to pass through. Quirrell almost got to the stone. If it wasn’t for the Mirror of Erised, he’d have it.”

Harry turned to look at Remus, his brilliant green eyes glowing like the Killing Curse. “He  _ wanted _ me to find Quirrell. And  _ fight _ him. Fight  _ Voldemort _ . Don’t tell me Dumbledore couldn’t sense him on the back of Quirrell’s head the very moment he passed through the school wards.”

Remus felt deeply unsettled, both by Harry’s terrifying eyes, and this revelation about Dumbledore. The Professor slumped heavily against a tree. Harry eyed him, wondering if Remus would brush him off or not.

“Harry,” Remus began tiredly, and Harry’s heart sank, “I will need some time to dwell on what you’ve told me. And I will, I promise you.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, “You believe me?”

Remus looked at the skinny boy and smiled, “Of course, Harry. You are the most honest person I’ve met. I see no reason not to at least consider your side of the story.”

Remus bit his lip, and looked away to Harry’s left, “I… I should tell you a few things then. I don’t like keeping secrets from you Harry.” Remus’ nose scrunched in determination, “You may not like this. Perhaps you should sit down.”

Harry sat on a boulder a little away from Remus, “Are you all right Remus? Nothing bad’s happened has it?”

“Well that depends on your view of it. What do you know of lycanthropy Harry?”

Harry shrugged, “Only whatever Professor Snape taught us.”

“Harry... I’m a werewolf.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow and pasted a small confused smile on his face. He had figured it out long ago, it wasn’t hard, especially when Remus disappeared the day before and after every full moon, Snape refused to teach anything else, and Harry wasn’t blind to the hatred between them. 

“I know. What of it?”

Remus jerked and almost fell over into a bush, “You  _ knew? _ ”

“Yes,” Harry said simply, kicking the heels of his well-worn sneakers against the boulder he sat on. Remus picked himself off the forest floor and looked at Harry incredulously.

“You're not disgusted? Or afraid? Harry… I’m a  _ werewolf _ . I'm dangerous, a  _ beast _ !”

Harry frowned for real this time, “Isn't it normal for werewolves to exist in the Wizarding World? I mean, there are vampires and merpeople right?”

Remus dusted off his patched robes and deliberately looked away from Harry while he spoke, “Harry, in the Wizarding World, werewolves are second-class citizens. As are vampire, merpeople, Veela, centaurs. We are treated as beasts, Magical creatures. Those who can and want to, they flee to the States, or France, or Germany - in Asia they’re practically revered - because they have rights there. Their rights are equal to that of a normal wizard or witch. But for those who are stuck here in the UK…” Remus smiled resignedly, “We can't have jobs, there is prejudice, we have no rights. We are half-breeds. Ministry law deems us  _ creatures _ . Do you understand where I’m coming from Harry?”

Remus finally looked up at his best friend’s son, his heart nearly breaking with the horror displayed on Harry’s face. “I-I’ll just l-leave you alone now -”

Remus could barely stutter out an apology before Harry was colliding into him, both of their thin frames jabbing at each other, sharp elbows digging into skin, causing them to wince. Harry hugged Remus tight nonetheless.

“That’s bullshit Moony. You aren't a monster, you're the gentlest, kindest soul I’ve _ ever  _ had the pleasure of meeting even though you've been through so much.”

Harry could feel Remus smile into his hair, he felt a few tears wet his scalp. He let Remus hug him a little longer, and when they separated, Harry pulled Remus over to the boulder he’d been sitting on. They sat side by side, pressed up against each other. They were silent, collecting their thoughts.

Harry finally asked, “How did it happen?”

Remus picked at his trouser seam, “My father was an expert on Magical creatures. He joined the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Ministry called on his expertise one day, for a Muggle tramp they suspected of being a werewolf. His name was Fenrir Greyback.”

Remus paused and swallowed, and Harry took his scarred, roughened hands in his own small, calloused ones. Remus nodded and continued, “The Department didn't think he was a werewolf. And the werewolf registration records weren’t well-kept. But my father recognised the signs. The Department was going to let him go free, and my father said something quite horrible. Greyback escaped.”

Remus shuddered, “He - He wanted to get back at my father for that remark. He broke into my bedroom window and attacked me. It was... terrible. My father managed to arrive in time and curse him out of the room, but by then, I’d already been turned.”

Harry leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder, offering meagre comfort. Remus smiled at him, “It was a long time ago Harry.”

They were quiet for a bit, and then Harry whispered, “I have the Marauders Map. And Dad’s old invisibility cloak.”

Remus whipped his head around to look at Harry. Harry reached for his haversack, and pulled out the Map. He handed it to Remus, who held it like a newborn baby.

_ “How?” _

“Fred and George nicked it from Filch’s office their first year. They gave it to me recently, to help me get away from Ron and Hermione easily.”

“And - And the cloak?”

Harry pulled it out of his haversack, the shimmering inner material glinting under the sun’s rays. “I suspect Dumbledore gave it to me. Sent it to me as a present in first year. He caught me with it once, and he didn't even seem surprised.”

He let Remus touch the two items, reminiscing about his Hogwarts days, filled with laughter and pranks and innocence. And friends. The best of friends. He gingerly returned the items to Harry and watched his best friend's son carefully fold the Map and tuck it away into his peculiar haversack. Then Harry folded up the cloak and put it into the haversack as well.

“Are you angry?” Harry asked softly.

“No, Harry. It would be awfully hypocritical of me to be angry about your secrets. I'm glad you told me. And I'm glad I told you mine.”

“Did Dad know?”

“Yes,” Remus smiled fondly, his look far away in another time, “He and… He and S-Sirius figured it out. They were brilliant about it. Became Animagi to keep me company during the moon, you know? Not that anyone knew.”

Harry sat up, “Professor McGonagall said becoming an animagus took a lot of concentration and an excellent grasp of transfiguration! Not many people can do it!”

Remus chuckled, “James was a stubborn arse, Padfoot was resourceful, I was good at research and Peter… well Peter brought snacks mostly. He had a way with the elves. We worked together to do it. We did everything together, really.”

“How did they keep you company? I thought you wouldn't be in your right mind when you transformed?”

“Your father was a stag, hence Prongs, and he was large enough to keep me in line. S -Si -  _ he _ was a dog, a great, black dog, so when the wolf got too savage for Prongs, he’d fight it, take command over it. Peter was a rat. He did a lot of scouting and looking out when the other two were keeping me in line.”

Harry nodded and they sat there in silence, processing. Harry looked up at Remus in curiosity, “Remus, that potion you drank...”

“It’s a fairly recent invention. It’s called Wolfsbane Potion, and it suppresses the wolf inside, and allows me to keep my own mind when I transform.”

“You should carry some with you at all times. Just in case. Like my haversack,” Harry gestured, “You may forget one day and regret it. It’s fairly recent right? ‘Habits take a while to cultivate’ Mrs Figg always said.”

Remus chuckled, “I don't think that’s quite necessary Harry. Professor Snape always brings it to me.”

Harry startled, “Professor  _ Snape _ brews your potion? You  _ hate _ each other! And I don't trust him! What if he poisons you? He’s been trying to have someone figure out you're a werewolf for  _ ages. _ ”

“Harry, it’s perfectly fine,” Remus chided, “We aren't schoolboys anymore. We can put aside our differences for the sake of the students. Besides, the Headmaster spoke with Professor Snape about my return, and he insisted I take the potion before he hired me. It’s safe.”

“You're going to trust _Snape_ , your enemy and rival for more than _two_ _decades_ , to brew a potion that you ingest every month to keep from hurting people, just because the _Headmaster had a chat with him?”_ Harry asked in outraged disbelief. Remus faltered.

“Well, when you put it that way...”

“Remus, why can't you brew your own potion? Why does it have to be Snape? Madame Pomfrey can probably brew it just as well!”

Remus shook his head distractedly, “I’m rubbish at potions. Always have been. And Madame Pomfrey falls under the Headmaster’s jurisdiction. Besides, she’s not as good as Snape is. Severus is one of the few potion masters left in the UK -”

“Well that’s rubbish! You just have to follow instructions don’t you? Besides, I helped Hermione brew Polyjuice in second year, and Draco Malfoy is the best Potions student this year. And Fred and George are the top of their year too. We could make it. And if all else fails, I’ll buy you the potion -”

“Harry!”

“Be quiet Remus, this is one argument you aren't going to win.”

Remus slumped in reluctant defeat. 

“You’re far too mature for your age. And I’m sorry to see it.”

“Why? I’ve got plenty of friends my age!”

“You're one of the youngest students in this year, Harry. Your birthday is in July, far later than any of your friends. And you have a tendency to fit in well with the older crowd. Fred and George Weasley are an example, and your Quidditch team quite adores you.”

Harry sat up, “I’ve got younger friends too! There's Ginny! And -” 

He paused, eyes darting about in thought. Harry frowned, “Hmm. I’m going to have to change that.”

“That’s not necessary Harry -”

“But it’d be good to know my youngers. Imagine where I’d be if I didn't have Fred and George or Angelina or Katie.”

He hopped from the rock, ignoring Remus’ eyeroll, “Right, let’s go Remus, there’s still a few hours before the Hogsmeade trip ends and I want to talk to Ginny.”

When the students came back from Hogsmeade, to their utter bewilderment, they found Harry Potter holding court in the Great Hall with first and second years of all houses (from Looney Lovegood to the kid with the camera, to first year  _ Astoria Greengrass) _ chattering away at him, and the Professors looking on in amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for being so late on the update, it's been a hectic week. 
> 
> this chapter is kind of a filler but also strider thinks it's good relationship development so yay
> 
> i realised ive never written a chapter on quidditch... should i? i was planning on saving it for fifth year at least, when things were more settled.


	18. Gryffindor Tower

“ _ Oh for goodness’ sake _ ! HARRY - what’s the  _ matter _ with you? You’ve been falling asleep in classes, you’ve been running off by yourself  _ and _ you have terrible circles under your eyes. That’s not good if you want to pass Third Year!”

“Yeah! And mate, you’ve got to be on the lookout! Everyone knows Sirius Black is after you. What if he shows up one day and you’re all wonky? You wouldn’t have a chance! Besides, you’ve got to be in shape for Quidditch!”

“Even Professor Lupin wouldn’t let you face the boggart that day in class. Speaking of, I wonder why he’s afraid of a glowing ball…”

“Nevermind that Hermione,” Harry interjected quickly, “Besides, Professor Lupin thought my boggart would be Voldemort -” he ignored the sharp gasps from the two Gryffindors, “- and he didn’t want to terrify the class.”

“Don’t say his name!” Ron hissed. Harry rolled his eyes as the Golden Trio came to a stop in front of a massive crowd along the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry looked around and spotted Fred standing with Angelina. He waved them over.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Fred, who furrowed his brows in confusion and shrugged. Angelina was trying to peer over all the heads.

“I don’t know Harry. I think Katie’s in front, maybe she knows...”

“Maybe Neville's forgotten the password again -” Ron joked meanly.

“Oi!”

Ron spun around to see Neville glaring at him, “Oh oops, sorry mate.”

Ginny suddenly pushed her way through the crowd, “The Fat Lady! She’s gone!”

“ _ What _ ?” 

There was a swift movement of students behind them as the Headmaster, Filch and Percy Weasley pushed their way through the crowd, “ _ Move _ !  _ Excuse _ me! The Headmaster is coming through!”

Filch and Percy shoved people aside roughly, allowing Dumbledore to glide past towards the portrait of The Fat Lady. Harry peeped from behind Fred, whom he’d been shoved behind. 

There were deep long gouges ripping the portrait apart, like claws had carved into them in rage. Dumbledore whirled around to Filch, his glittery yellow robes billowing. The maddening twinkle in his eye had vanished, leaving behind a cold facade.

“Send the ghosts on a search, we must find the Fat Lady.”

“No need, Headmaster,” Filch croaked, a gnarled, leathery finger rising up to point, “She's over there.” 

There was a huge stampede as everyone who’d congregated in the hallway shifted and pushed towards where Filch had pointed. Dumbledore ignored all of this and simply allowed himself to be led to a painting of a rather large hippopotamus.

“Dear Lady, who has done this to you?” He asked softly, comfortingly. All Harry could see was that he was digging for answers, and that being comforting was merely being polite.

“ _ It’s him! Sirius Black!”  _ She screamed in terror, and dived behind the hippopotamus again. There was a pin-drop silence... and then an immediate outbreak of shrieks and screams and tears. 

“Percy,” Dumbledore said gravely, “Alert all the Prefect and Professors. Bring all the students to the Great Hall at once.”

“Yes sir!” And he ran off.

Harry could barely blink before Fred grabbed him. Fred jogged him all the way to the Great Hall amongst the throng of students, avoiding Ron and Hermione's calls and shouts to wait. They met George and Ginny in the Hall, and Ginny instantly took his hand. He could see Ron and Hermione looking for him, but he couldn't deal with them now. He knew all they would do was ask and question and talk about Sirius Black, and that was the last thing Harry wanted to do tonight.

The four of them dragged their sleeping bags to a corner near the Professors’ table, avoiding Ron and Hermione. He caught Vince’s eye across the hall and Vince gave him an imperceptible nod. Harry felt strangely comforted. Ron and Hermione were moving closer to where Harry was, sleeping bags on hand under the pretence of finding a spot. Harry swore he saw Hermione share a look with Dumbledore. They were looking for him on Dumbledore's orders then. Now he  _ really _ didn’t want to talk to them.

“Ginny, be a dear and distract Ron will you?” George whispered, half-joking.

Ginny looked questioningly at Harry, who avoided her gaze and fiddled with his sleeping bag. She nodded once and walked over to Percy, sleeping bag clutched in her arms. Percy called Ron over and Hermione followed, though her gaze wandered. Ron’s shoulders tensed in irritation while Percy spoke authoritatively, but he took Ginny anyway. The odd trio found a spot in the centre of the hall and set up there. Percy was already insisting everyone sleep. Ron and Hermione resigned their efforts for the night.

Harry crawled into his sleeping bag and sighed. He was used to sleeping on hard surfaces. Harry had had to make do with a tiny cot inside his cupboard for eleven years, and throughout his whole life he’d taken to taking naps outside in the parks or playgrounds when avoiding the Dursleys. Harry shifted when he felt the tingle of magic run over him.

“Easy, Harold,” soothed George, “Just a cushioning charm. We’re doing it for everyone.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

The Hall had fallen almost silent, except for the restless shifting and crunching of sleeping bags and low murmurs of students. The Professors were patrolling the corridors and the entrances to the Great Hall. Harry briefly saw Remus - haggard and utterly miserable, though not without anger and determination in his every step. Harry hoped Remus would be all right.

“Harry,” came Fred’s whisper, “You all right, mate? You look mighty uncomfortable.”

“Don't be dim, Fred,” George hissed.

“You know I don't mean it like that, Georgie. Was the cushioning charm weak?”

“I’ll have you know,  _ Frederick, _ ” hissed George indignantly as he rolled over to face Harry and Fred, “That  _ I  _ beat your Charms score last week by 5 marks  _ and  _ topped the class.”

Harry snickered, and he felt the tension loosen. Fred huffed, “All right, all right. Why are you so uncomfortable then Harold?”

Harry picked at his sleeping bag, “Actually - Could you - could you take off the cushioning charm?”

George and Fred looked at Harry in bewilderment, “What?”

“Take it off. Please.”

George immediately did so and Harry felt the tingle of magic fade away into the stone floor.

“Harry… why do you want to sleep on the hard floor?” 

It was late, and Harry was exhausted. It had been an extremely long, emotionally taxing day and he really just wanted to go to bed and wake up without someone wanting to off him.

“I’m used to it,” he mumbled, “slept in me cupboard remember? And on park benches. Nice. Quiet. No Dursleys.”

Harry yawned, unaware of the whispered, “ _ His cupboard?” _

“Night Freddie, Georgie.”

He was fast asleep by the time they returned the sentiment.

Two weeks later and Sirius Black attacked again. Only this time, he got into the Gryffindor dormitory, tried to kill Ron and then ran off. McGonagall had dragged Neville off for a very thorough chewing off, and while Harry knew Neville wasn't at fault, Harry couldn't help but feel utterly terrified that Sirius Black had been in the same room as him.

Harry sat with Ron and the other boys in the common room, while Sir Cadogan was removed from his post and an empty frame was put in place so the surrounding portraits could pass in and out to allow entrance.

Ron seemed shaken up, but he was all right, Sirius Black hadn't done anything to him. Harry felt bad for his friend, right until Ron opened his big mouth.

“What the  _ bloody hell _ Harry! Of  _ all _ the beds he decided to loom over, he loomed over  _ mine _ .  _ Your _ bed’s right next to mine! What's he playing at having a go at  _ me _ ?”

Harry stiffened, and the rest of the Gryffindors turned to listen raptly. Ron continued his indignant spiel, “We all know he’s after  _ you _ , why the hell he’d go for me? Or is this some sort of sick thing in his head? Wasn't you had to roll under the bed last night to avoid getting cut to ribbons! _ A person could die being your friend, Harry _ !”

Fred shoved his way in front of Ron, such a fierce and angry gleam in his eyes that Ron immediately backed away, “ _ You watch your mouth _ -”

“Fred! Stop it, leave it,” Harry said, though his voice came out harsher than he intended and he felt something tingle in his veins. Fred looked at him in surprise and backed off, and when Harry looked around at the gathered Gryffindors, they all fussed at their things and avoided his eye. How strange.He’d never known them to be the tactful sort. 

He brushed it off and turned to Ron, “I never asked you to be friends with me Ron. You approached me remember? But I suppose if it's  _ so hard _ being friends with Harry Potter, maybe you shouldn't be. It’s not much of a loss to me.”

With that, Harry stood up with much more grace than he usually had and glided off, “I’ll be in Fred, George and Lee’s room tonight, I doubt even Sirius Black will want to be on the receiving end of a nasty prank.”

Ron spluttered and Hermione tittered somewhere off in a corner with the Gryffindor girls. Fred and George flanked Harry and helped him get his things. The trio were silent all the way to Harry’s new dorm, where Lee had already commandeered a troupe of house-elves to make Harry’s bed. He stuck an arm out to Harry and smiled, bypassing Harry’s hand gripping him at the forearm. Harry stumbled but gripped Lee’s arm too, slightly confused.

Lee grinned, “Pleasant stay, Harry.” Then he walked to the bathroom, whistling on his way out. Harry looked at Fred and George in question.

“That’s his way of making friends. Lee’s cool that way, doesn't do that with a lot of people,” Fred said.

“Means he likes you, and you're under his protection or what not, we don’t really get it,” George shrugged.

Harry sat down on his bed and began to untie his laces. Meanwhile, the twins flopped carelessly down onto his bed and yelped.

“Blimey Harry! Why’s your bed so hard? D’you honestly like sleeping like this?”

“What do you mean? Aren't all the beds like this?”

George shook his head and rubbed his sore bum, “The beds are all catered to student preferences. Haven't you sat on the other boys beds before? You must have noticed.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, his long fringe falling into his eyes, “Um, no. Dean blew up at Ron first year. Ron tried to touch his stuff. And I’ve always been taught not to. Y’know - about touching things that aren't mine.”

They were silent for a bit and Harry felt like Death knowing he kept slipping up and telling Fred and George things he’d kept quiet for years. The twins didn't press, though Harry knew they were burning with questions. He appreciated them much more for it. 

Harry knew he’d have to tell someone about his childhood one day, about the things he went through and still went through every summer. He had yet to figure out his thoughts on his childhood as compared to others, but Harry supposed as he began to trust Fred and George more, he’d eventually tell them everything. And they’d give him time and try their best to help, like they did with Ginny. 

He really couldn't be more grateful for Fred and George Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo guess whose birthday it was! Mine! YAYYYYY, that's why i'm posting today, sort of a present to myself hehe, hope you like it!


	19. The Dungeons

“Hey Harry?”

“Yes, Ronald?” Harry asked primly as Ron trailed after him. They’d just finished Transfiguration and were walking towards the Dungeons for Potions. Ron had been trying to talk to Harry the whole day, but Harry was having none of it. He’d been on the receiving end of Ron’s idiocy for too damn long.

Sure Ron was a nice guy, but he had no sense of tact and strayed from Harry’s side like a fluttering butterfly - here one day, gone the next. Not to mention, Ron’s spying habits made him re-evaluate their entire friendship.

Hermione tried pestering him to forgive Ron, because she thought they were being silly. He didn’t think he was being silly. In fact, Harry felt extremely justified in being cold to Ron, especially after the whole thing happened in Gryffindor Tower. Most of the Gryffindors were afraid of him now, after his outburst. Ironic, given they were supposed to be the most courageous. Harry couldn’t help feeling a malicious sense of gratification. He stamped down on it - hard.

Anyway, back to Hermione; she simply wanted them to make up and go back to how it was. But that wasn't the way the world worked.

He didn’t ignore Hermione per se, but he did vanish whenever she appeared with Ron. He decided to follow Neville around instead, and Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that Neville was one of the few Gryffindors - besides the Weasleys and Hermione - that wasn’t scared of him.

(In fact, Neville was had such dry wit about him when he thought no one was paying attention. Neville welcomed Harry’s company, and promptly seemed to forget Harry was there, which was refreshing. Harry listened to his quiet deadpan commentary on the whole day’s events and burst out in silent giggles a few times, which made Neville realise Harry’s presence and promptly flush in embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry, I'm used to being alone."

“No, no, please keep going. I promise I won’t say a word.” Harry had reassured, and Neville beamed shyly and went right back to it.)

Neville ran off when Ron and Hermione managed to catch up to Harry. Harry was a bitter that Neville had left him undefended from Ron and Hermione, but he had to admire Neville’s self-preservation.

“Harry... look mate. I’m sorry for what I said last night, okay? I didn’t mean it,” Ron whined and scratched his nose in discomfort. Ron was determinedly avoiding eye contact and Hermione was trailing on Harry’s other side - Potions text out and ignoring Ron and Harry altogether.

He thought about simply ignoring Ron forever, but Harry decided he’d rather have spies he knew about rather than faceless students he couldn’t watch out for.

Harry blew out a resigned sigh, “All right, all right, I forgive you, now hurry _up_ or you’re going to make me late to Potions.”

Hermione’s head and eyebrows shot up at that, and Ron’s mouth dropped open in shock, but he must have learned his lesson because he shut it and walked briskly down the corridor.

Harry ignored Hermione’s suspicious gaze and followed after Ron. The third-year Gryffindors and Slytherins were standing outside the Potions classroom, waiting for Professor Snape to allow them entrance. Ron walked passed the Slytherins and scrunched his nose up as he passed Draco. Draco sneered at him but didn’t say anything - for which Harry was grateful because he really didn’t think he could be bothered with anything anymore. And then Ron had to ruin it - and right after Harry thought he'd learned his lesson!  _Salazar’s spit_.

“Harry,” said Ron, “Why didn’t Sirius Black just kill you if he was in the room that night?”

Harry sighed. Ron either didn’t notice or didn’t bother with their audience because he continued at the same volume, “I mean, we all know he’s after you, and besides, how hard is it to look for you amongst five boys right? He could’ve just done you in -”

“Ronald,” whispered Hermione, “I don’t think this is a good place to -”

“- so why didn’t he just off you that night he attacked me? Could’ve finished the job right there and then.”

Harry saw Draco take an angry step forward, but was much too resigned to stop the confrontation.

“Wea-”

Pansy pushed Draco out of the way and stood at her tallest, facing Ron’s impressive height with such a commanding presence Harry could see the Korean nobility shining through.

“Tsk tsk, looks like the Gryffindors are airing their dirty laundry,” Pansy crooned distastefully as she eyed Ron.

And then in a slow, carefully articulated voice used when speaking to a stupid person, she continued, “Weasley - maybe - you - should - whisper.”

Pansy smirked and looked at her nails, ignoring Ron’s steadily reddening face and clenching fists, “Gryffindors are so silly, spilling their secrets left, right and centre. Gave us a good amount of ammunition didn’t he? Any more secrets to share, Weasley?”

Hermione cleared her throat authoritatively and stepped up to Pansy, “Back off Parkinson, I thought pureblood girls were supposed to be silent, not stupid, though I see how you could mix those up.”

Before anybody could react to Hermione’s insult, a voice carried from the back of the Slytherins, “Did you hear that? Well, I never! What a supremely sexist thing to say!”

Everyone turned to see whose voice it was and Harry almost couldn’t hold back his laughter when he saw it was Vince, looking incredibly offended. Greg spoke up next, his voice loud even amidst the whispers and mutters of the bystanders, “Yeah, but don’t blame her Vince, I hear it’s normal for girls in the Muggle world. She just doesn’t know better.”

Hermione’s face flushed red at the insult to her intelligence and her world. She couldn’t say anything back, because whatever they’d said was true. Instead, she and Ron looked over to Harry for defense.

Harry had a spaced out expression on his face - his version of of Draco’s pureblood facade. Speaking of... he looked over to Draco, and found him looking back, a barely there twitch of his nose and Harry knew Draco was laughing inside. He seriously needed to rid Draco of his prejudiced behaviour for good. Hermione didn’t deserve to be attacked because of her blood. But then again, Hermione wasn’t exactly better when it came to Slytherins. Huh.

“All right, that’s enough, the cultural differences discussion can take place another time,” he said, unbothered. Internally, he couldn't find it in himself to give a shit about anything. The crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins turned to look at him like he was mad. He probably was, but that was a problem for another day.

The door to the Potions class opened with a deep _creeeaak_ , startling everyone and deflecting the attention off Harry. Draco directed a tiny smile at Harry, unnoticed by the others in the mad rush to enter the classroom, and Harry couldn't help but feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ma dudes and gals and everyone in between how yall doinnnnn  
> ok so i havent posted in 5ever but like school and shit so yea  
> ive finally returned to the mindset i first had when i started writing this fic - ie literally did not give a fuck  
> hope u like this chapter thx for sticking around and reading this extremely self-indulgent work!!!  
> much love to all of ya and hopin u have a good october ahead!  
> leave ur comments and kudos bc i need luv <3


	20. Potions

The door to the storeroom opened with a bang and Snape stepped out. The class fell oppressively silent as the black-robed Master slithered to his table. He turned to face them, cloak whipping like a sinister bat, and sneering like a vampire.

“Today,” he drawled condescendingly, “you will be attempting to make the Draught of Living Death. It is unfortunate that you will not be allowed to test this potion on yourselves, though I doubt any of you could perfect it to its full effects.”

He strolled down the aisle, and eyed Neville predatorily, “Perhaps you may test them on your familiars…”

Neville visibly shrank back in his seat and the Gryffindors started to murmur in dissent. Harry bristled in anger. Snape silenced them with a glare.

“The instructions are on the board. Begin.”

Harry turned to Ron, “You get the ingredients, I'll prepare the cauldron.”

Ron nodded and went off. Harry took out his cauldron and read the instructions on the board. He wrote them down on a spare bit of notebook paper he got from Colin Creevey with one of the pens Tom had given him during the summer. He kept his Potions text and began to heat the Cauldron. He poured in some standard ingredient and kept an eye on the time. Ron came back with their ingredients and set to chopping the boomslang skin. Harry poured the horklump juice in and stirred.

“Ron, you've got to add the next bit because I'm keeping an eye on the temperature.”

“What's the next bit?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Add the boomslang skin. You've been chopping it remember? Three 2-inch pieces.”

Ron shrugged and grabbed a handful and dropped them in.

“Ron! How many did you put in there?” Harry exclaimed, “I told you three pieces!”

“But it's all going in there eventually, might as well out more in now or we’ll take forever!” Ron said.

Harry groaned, “You've messed it up Ron! What are we going to do?”

Ron sulked at pulled at his Potions text, “I don't know any more than you do. Whatever, it's just one potion. Seamus’ is going to explode soon.”

Harry scrunched the heels of his hands into his eyes and thought hard. He didn't know why Potions was suddenly so important to him but he felt he had to prove he could do it. _Concentrate_ , Harry thought. _Wait, concentrate…_ Harry looked up and frantically threw in the beetle's eyes and more horklump juice. He added more standard ingredient and let it simmer.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked indignantly, “you just told me not to add more of anything and here you are adding in more of - well - everything!”

“I'm increasing the volume of potion. It's like when you make stew but you add in too much cream - Aunt Petunia doesn't like anything too creamy see - so I had to lower the concentration of that cream in the stew so I just added more stock and veggies. You understand?”

Ron looked stunned, “Bloody hell… I do! How’d you know that?”

Harry opened and closed his mouth and shook his head, turning back to the potion. Snape passed by and though he made a scathing comment about the volume of potion and waste of ingredients, he made no further comment. Harry grinned when Hermione cast him a glowering look. No criticism from Snape was almost a compliment in itself. It seemed he wasn't that bad at Potions after all. Thank God for Muggle chemistry and cooking.

Harry continued working on the potion while Ron handed him the correct amount of ingredients. They finished the potion, and under Snape's watchful eye, they bottled and stoppered two vials of potion. They had an extra vial because of their increased volume and if Snape wasn't letting them keep it, it must have been potent enough to function properly. He and Draco had brushed shoulders on their way up to the teacher's table and Draco’s lip quirked when he saw the potion. Harry had a good feeling he’d done well, especially since Draco's looked just like his and Draco was _fantastic_ at potions.

After class, Hermione had furiously stomped up to Harry.

“How did you do it? Are you cheating?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, unused to her competitiveness being directed at him.

“I followed the instructions..?”

Harry began to walk away, his haversack hanging by one step over his shoulder. He was supposed to meet Draco in a bit but Ron and Hermione trailing him really wasn't helping. Hermione followed after him, her hair frizzy with potions fumes and buzzing with fury.

“Don't lie Harry -”

 _Oh no she didn’t_ . Harry whipped around. “I’m not bloody _lying_ ,” he hissed menacingly, eyes flashing. Hermione gasped and stepped back and Ron shivered. “Ask Ron if you must. He fucked up the potion didn't he?”

“Harry!” Hermione gasped indignantly at his swearing. Ron spluttered, “I worked on that potion too! If it hadn't been for me adding that extra boomslang skin the potion probably wouldn't have turned out the way it did. That was half my work!”

Harry blinked and rubbed his temples, “Jesus Christ…”

He ignored Hermione's gasp and addressed Ron, “Look Ron, you're right it's half your potion. But it would have turned out the same way if you had put in the right number of pieces. We’d just have brewed a lesser amount of potion.”

He turned to Hermione, “As for you - I didn't cheat and I don't need my friend telling me I’m a liar. Just because you're scared of some competition, Hermione, doesn't mean you get to be a right _brat_ about it. You won't always be the smartest person out there. You can't be an expert at _everything_. So leave off me and go do your own thing.”

He stomped off while they were still in a daze and whipped out his invisibility cloak. He turned a corner as Ron and Hermione started to call after him in apology. He wrapped the cloak around himself and waited for Ron and Hermione to run past. Once they were gone, he took off the cloak and headed for the library - the last place Ron and Hermione would look for him.

Draco found him there, unsurprisingly. He smiled at Draco guiltily when Draco sat opposite him. It was mainly younger years in the library then and since they didn’t really know Harry and Draco had been enemies before they arrived, they didn’t find it particularly odd. However, a few fourth year Ravenclaws looked up in surprise. Draco wasn’t too worried about them, because Ravenclaws liked their knowledge kept secret.

“What's the matter Potter? You look fed up.”

Harry scowled, “What do you think?”

“Ah,” Draco said smugly, “Weasel and Granger. What have they done now?”

“Ron didn’t do much, besides running his mouth before potions. It’s just that Hermione called me a liar,” Harry grimaced. He dropped his head into the crook of his arm, “And I don't know why I'm suddenly so bloody invested in potions. I just feel like I need to be good at it.”

Draco’s face remained impassive, but Harry knew he was frowning. He had that tick in the corner of his mouth when he did that.

Draco spoke quietly, “I became interested in potions because my mother liked to experiment with them before father found out and stopped her. She'd have me pass her ingredients and stir things slowly. It was… enjoyable.”

Harry looked up at Draco and saw the tenderness in the gentleness of his voice. Draco loved his mother deeply and sometimes Harry wondered if that's what he and _his_ mum would’ve been like. It would've been nice having parents. Harry came to a realisation and sat up, looking Draco dead on the eye.

“Malfoy… what do you know about Wolfsbane?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a filler chapter


	21. Defense Against the Dark Arts

“Look Potter, I’m not saying that you’re stupid - but you're being stupid right now. The instructions _clearly_ state we need the blood of a werewolf to make this potion. I can take care of all the other ingredients, but where the _bloody hell_ are we getting _werewolf_ blood?” Draco asked exasperatedly, rubbing at his temples.

How did he get dragged into this? Was Potter being deliberately obtuse? They were sitting in one of the larger alcoves on the fourth floor and Potter seemed determined to make the Wolfsbane Potion despite the fact that it needed werewolf blood.

“Never mind about the werewolf blood - I'll take care of it. Can you help me or not?”

Draco gaped like a fish, but at Harry’s beseeching look, he relented and sagged his shoulders, “ _Yes_ , all right? I can get the ingredients and I _most certainly_ can help you brew that potion. But for the love of everything - Harry, _please_ don't tell me who you're getting werewolf blood from, because I might _genuinely be sick_.”

Harry beamed at Draco and Draco fell back against the wall. He covered his eyes and groaned and tried to ignore the blinding smile Harry was sending his way. They sat there for a few minutes in comfortable silence as Draco tried to come to terms with what he’d committed himself to.

He jumped in surprise as the warning bell rang. Harry disentangled their legs and got up, offering an arm to Draco, who rolled his eyes and took the proffered arm.

They looked around at the corridor and left the alcove when no one seemed to be around. Harry slipped under his trusty invisibility cloak and they set off. Still, Draco felt awkward walking to Defense by himself, though he knew Harry was there.

Thankfully, Blaise caught up with him on the third floor after saying farewell to Fred. Blaise yelped suddenly and scowled at the wall, as if he knew Harry was standing right there. A few fifth year Ravenclaws gave them wary looks and hurried away at Blaise's returning scowl. 

They made their way down to the Defense classroom on the ground floor and took their seats inside. Harry appeared a while later, his signature haversack over his shoulder. He sat next to Weasel as per usual and struck up a whispered conversation.

Draco really wished Harry wouldn't talk to Ron Weasley or Mudblood Granger. But he supposed they _were_ Harry’s friends when Draco himself was bullying Harry in first year. And there _was_ that thing with the troll. He couldn't argue with that kind of bond. However, it _was_ unfortunate that Pansy was always paired with Granger in any of the Slytherin/Gryffindor classes. She sat with Granger now, the two of them ignoring each other and reading their own texts.

He turned to talk to Blaise when - instead of Professor Lupin - Professor Snape stalked in with a furious sneer on his face. He flicked his wand at the windows and the shutters snapped shut. The class quieted immediately in fear and wariness. Draco sniffed at the way Snape had to be so _loud_ when he intimidated people and vowed never to be like that. Draco would intimidate by striking fear into people's hearts… Silently.

Snape reached the podium and turned on the projector. His drawling voice echoed in the silence of the classroom like slick slime, “Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four.”

A flurry of movement occurred as the students all flicked through their Potions text. Harry’s eyes landed on the title of the chapter and he felt rage swell up within him like a volcano about to erupt. The windows started to rattle violently and Harry immediately tamped down on his magic before anyone could trace it to him. The class looked around in curiosity and even Snape cast a wary glance at the windows. Sensing no further disturbance, he continued with the lesson as was usual for him: made fun of Hermione, preached prejudice against werewolves, awarded points to Slytherin and took points from Gryffindor. And then he assigned homework.

Harry groaned internally. There was Quidditch tomorrow and Harry certainly wouldn't have time to hand in his homework by then. He could try attempting it tonight but Oliver was holding team practice one last time. They were playing Hufflepuff and Harry was already worried about the Seeker, Cedric Diggory. _Oh well_ , he sighed as Ron received a tongue-lashing from Snape, it looked like he had to hand it up late.

As he walked out of the classroom with Ron and Hermione, his mind was reeling. He refused to let Remus be so vulnerable. Harry already had Draco’s resources and wealth of potions knowledge. He’d just need some blood from Remus. That was the tricky bit. Did they need _blood_ -blood? Or would DNA suffice? Harry pondered over how to obtain Remus’ blood, which was quite morbid for a thirteen-year-old boy. But nonetheless, he figured if Remus could get an unlimited and _trustworthy_ source of the potion, everyone would be better off. Except Dumbledore, the controlling bastard. And Snape too. Ugh.

Harry figured he’d visit Remus tomorrow after Quidditch, as he usually did after every full moon. Remus would definitely have a few wounds on him because of the transformation. Then, he and Draco would work on the Wolfsbane potion and Remus wouldn’t have to rely on Snape and Dumbledore ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have returned? i'm on break and finally remembered to post again so whoot hmu on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/batblade)


	22. The Quidditch Pitch

"It's going to be a tough one," said Oliver, who was going green.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain.”

A bit of rain? It was _absolutely pouring_. And the winds were so strong Colin Creevy had almost been blown away walking past the entrance hall. Fred, George and Harry directed incredulous looks at Alicia. She glared back at them, pointedly inclining her head at Oliver - though in the midst of whatever the Captain was thinking about, he didn't seem to notice. 

On their way to the locker rooms, they spotted the Slytherins. Draco and Blaise sent him discreet thumbs-up and they tried to smile back, though by the look on their faces, their smiles came out more like grimaces.  

While they were in the locker room, a whispered ' _psst_ ' caught Harry's attention. Pansy was just around the corner of the door, beckoning him to come over. Harry cast a look at Oliver, who was stark white and muttering to himself, and quickly rushed towards her. 

"What is it?" 

Pansy aimed her wand at his goggles and whispered, "Impervius!"

He didn't feel anything happen in particular, and was about to ask Pansy what she did when she explained. "It will repel water away from your eyes so you can see where you're going. Trust you to be the only Quidditch player with glasses," she said, rolling her eyes. Harry ginned at her and she waved it off before vanishing. 

-

This was just downright ridiculous. Dumbledore was mad if he allowed students to play in this weather. Couldn't the match have been postponed? At least Harry could see where he was going, though the dreary skies and flashing lightning weren't helping him find the snitch. Speaking of lightning, did nobody realise this was the worst time to be playing a sport that involved _being in the air_?

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harry needed to get the Snitch now. Another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely - the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

Harry's numb hands slipped on the broom handle and his Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking his sodden bangs out of his eyes, he squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished.

"Harry!" came Oliver's anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts. "Harry, behind you!"

Harry looked wildly around. Cedric Diggory was pelting up the field, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them.

With a jolt of panic, Harry threw himself flat to the broomhandle and zoomed toward the Snitch.

"Come on!" he growled at his Nimbus as the rain whipped his face. “Faster!"

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harry had gone suddenly deaf - what was going on?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him - inside him - just as he became aware of something moving on the field below. Before he'd had time to think, Harry had taken his eyes off the Snitch and looked down.

-

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot and dripping all over the floor, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking equally drenched.

"Harry!" exclaimed Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" he asked, sitting up so suddenly they flinched.

"You fell off," said Fred shakily. "Must've been - what - fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," whispered Alicia, who was trembling. Angelina put a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"But the match," insisted Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one said anything. It sank into Harry like a stone. "We didn't - we didn’t lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square... even Oliver admits it."

"Where is Wood?" asked Harry, looking around.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Katie whacked Fred's chest and the other girls hissed at him. " _You're not making him feel better, Weasley_!"

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly, dropping to his knees by Harry’s bed. "C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," George chimed in supportively.

"It's not over yet," said Fred, gripping Harry’s robes. "We lost by a hundred points -"

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin -"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw -"

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff -"

"It all depends on the points - a margin of a hundred either way."

Harry lay there, not saying a word. This was his first time losing a match, and he wasn’t feeling up to the banter. And the after effects of the Dementors - a hundred of them no less - was really dragging his mood. After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.

“George and I are staying here, Madam Pomfrey. Harry’s just going to beat himself up if we go,” George told her.

“Mr Weasley -”

“We’re staying,” Fred insisted, and Madam Pomfrey sighed in annoyance but shooed the rest of them out. Ron and Hermione wanted to stay too, but Madam Pomfrey had had enough rebellion for the day. “The two of you can come by later, when Mr Potter is recovered. Leave him be for now, I already have to deal with the twins.”

The group of Gryffindors trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapprovingly at her dirtied nd sopping floor. She whipped around to Fred and George, “Misters Weasley, I want you in clean clothes immediately. You’re tracking mud all over the infirmary floor. For goodness’ sake, go take a shower and come back.”

Fred grinned cheekily at the nurse, “You will let us back in won’t you Madam Pomfrey?”

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at them, “If you don’t make any unnecessary mischief, then perhaps.”

“We’ll be silent and quick as mice,” promised George. He grabbed his broom and made for the dorm. Fred ruffled Harry’s hair and ran off after George.

They came back a while later to Harry with his head still between his knees. Fred sighed and approached. “Budge over, Harold. My arse hurts.”

Harry begrudgingly shifted, and Fred got up on the bed beside him, throwing a careless arm over Harry’s shoulders. George deposited himself on their feet at the end of the bed. They were silent for a while.

"Dumbledore went ballistic," Fred said softly. "Never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand - impedimenta maybe? - and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors and shot a Patronus Charm at them. They left the stadium right away. He was furious they'd come onto the grounds."

"Then he put you on a stretcher," said George. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were..."

His voice faded, but Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking about the screaming he heard. He’d begun to suspect. After all, once was an accident, twice was a coincidence. Harry didn’t necessarily want a third occurrence, but it would prove something.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?" he asked tiredly. The following silence caused him to look up. Fred and George avoided looking at each other, which was a tell-tale sign if he ever saw one.

"What?" said Harry, dreading the answer.

"Um. Well - when you fell off, it got blown away," said George cautiously.

"And?"

"And it hit the Willow." Fred finished.

Harry's gut turned.

"And?"

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," Fred tried to joke. "It - it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around,” George said quietly.

He reached down for a bag at the bedside, opened it up, and passed over the numerous twigs and sticks - the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa it's kind of a filler chapter once again. I don't like big jumps in my stories so ye


	23. The Arithmancy Classroom

“Have… Have we done it?” Harry asked in stunned awe.

Draco scooped a bit of the steaming potion into another flask, and added a few ingredients. The potion spit and frothed, then turned silver. Draco sighed in relief.

“Yeah. We did it.”

Harry whooped in delight and clapped Draco heartily on the back. Draco rolled his eyes but Harry ignored him and started portioning out the potion into vials. He and Draco worked for the better part of an hour portioning out the potion. When they were finally done, the potion had been distributed into 60 tiny vials. It was less than the dosage Snape gave Remus, but it would work just as efficiently considering the doubled concentration of certain ingredients. Harry pocketed five, and Draco took five to sell on the side. The remaining 50, Harry took to Remus’ office in his haversack. He emptied the lot onto Remus’ desk and was glad Draco had purchased charmed vials so they wouldn’t break.

Remus, who was marking fourth year essays, looked up at the clinking of the vials that rolled over his desk. He picked one up gingerly and looked to Harry in question. He refocused on the vial and almost dropped it in shock. Remus whirled on Harry, who was standing by innocently.

“Harry - what have you done?”

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, “I made Wolfsbane potion. Well, uh, Draco did for the most part - but I helped! So now you don’t have to drink the ones from Snape anymore. And you can carry these around with you wherever you go. And-”

“Harry,” Remus sighed, “You stole my blood.”

Harry winced in shame, “Yeah, when you were recovering from the full moon. And I was in the hospital wing so I managed to nick a couple of bandages.” Harry coughed, remembering his poor Nimbus. The team was devastated of course, though Oliver topped the charts by trying to drown himself in the shower - again. It’d taken Harry, Fred and George to drag him out, with some reluctant help from Percy Weasley. 

Remus leaned back in his chair and fumbled with the glass vials on his desk. With a fond sigh, he smiled at Harry.

“I do thank you for the potion Harry. Though I am sceptical of whether it works or not.”

Harry scuffed the toe of his boot along Remus’ carpeted floor, “Draco used the test that was recommended by his mother. Lady Malfoy has a few contacts in the potions industry. The potion is perfect.”

The teacher and student, verging on the brink of parent and child, stared at each other. Remus sighed and stood up. He made his way around his desk and stopped in front of Harry, who stared up at him expectantly. He put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and smiled down at the thirteen-year-old.

“Harry, I am extremely proud of the person you’re becoming. James and Lily would be so proud to see you. You have a maturity and compassion many others your age don’t, and it reflects in your actions.”

Harry flushed at the praise from his sort-of parent. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, “So… does this mean you’ll take my potion?”

Remus nodded, “I’ll have to figure out what to do with the potion from Snape, but that’s for me to worry about. Thank you for the potion.”

The bell chimed before Harry could speak, and Remus fondly ruffled his hair. He pulled Harry into a one-armed hug and led him to the door. Just as Harry was about to leave, he quipped, “Maybe you could carry a vial of the potion with you all the time? I know how you are about your moons.”

Remus laughed sheepishly, “All right, all right - I’ve got a class to get to Harry, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and waved goodbye. He had a bounce in his step all the way to the old Arithmancy classroom, where no doubt the Silver Circle would meet properly for the first time in weeks. Everyone had been so busy lately, so Harry hadn’t had time to properly see all of them together as a group. It would be nice to see the whole gang back together again.

He slipped into an alcove and checked the Marauders' map. Fred and George were walking up the stairs, the Silver Trio were already in the classroom, and Vince and Greg were down in the kitchens. Harry snorted, they were no doubt getting food. Though - Harry _was_ hungry, so he would snag something from them when they arrived. He stowed the map away into his bag and walked back towards the Arithmancy classroom where he’d left Draco almost an hour ago.

He stepped in and was ambushed by Blaise and Pansy immediately - the clingy bunch they were. He threw an arm around Blaise’s waist and one around Pansy’s shoulders. He missed the Slytherins a lot, he’d only really properly met up with Draco and the twins these past few weeks.

They settled down into their comfy conjured pillows and when Fred and George entered, they called out in greeting. Fred settled in next to Blaise, who promptly threw his legs over Fred’s lap, continuing his conversation with Harry. Harry glanced at George and Pansy who were looking at him pointedly. The three of them smirked and carried on their conversations. Vince and Greg finally appeared, laden down with food from the house-elves. Vince threw a couple of pot pies to Harry, who was delighted to find they were his favourite blend of chicken and potatoes.

They all finally settled down and in between bites of food and raucous laughter, they caught up with each other, laying about the classroom and waiting for the dinner bell to ring. Fred and George were tossing ideas for pranks back and forth and asking Harry what he thought. The others were either doing homework or chatting about nothing in particular. It was altogether the most content and peaceful Harry felt since the Sirius Black incident.

He interrupted Fred and George’s musings about the best location to fling a dungbomb.

“Lads, you seem to forget I’ve got the map, we’ll check out where the concentration of students is highest, and Professors lowest.”

He pulled out the map carefully from his haversack and flipped through the pages, casting a brief glance at the Gryffindor dormitory. He almost choked at what he saw.

“Fred? George? Could you come here a second?”

The twins made their way over, “What’s up mate?”

Harry simply pointed to his dorm room, a little green. Fred and George looked and blinked rapidly.

“Fred,” George said, “Pinch me.”

Fred did, and George yelped, then looked at the map again. He whistled lowly, “I had no idea Ronniekins had an inclination towards men. Doesn't matter of course -" he said hurriedly "- but he's a bit young for this, isn't he?”

Ron was in the dorm room, where his bed was. Hovering extremely close by, was one ‘Peter Pettigrew’. The name felt familiar to Harry, so he put it down to being somehow acquainted with this schoolmate. The three Gryffindors stared at the map in stunned surprise for a few moments, and in that span of time, Ron got off the bed and left the dorm. But as soon as Ron had left the dorm, one particular set of pawprints emerged from the girls dorm and walked slowly into the boys.

Fred chuckled, “Crookshanks?”

Harry shrugged, “He likes to hang out with the boys sometimes.”

Suddenly, a flurry of movement in the boys dorm grabbed their attention. Peter Pettigrew was running all over the dorm, Crookshanks chasing him. It was somewhat hilarious, yet Harry felt... strange. Peter eventually ran out of the dorm, Crookshanks behind him. Fred and George chuckled about poor Ronnie’s boyfriend being chased away by Hermione’s cat. Was Crookshanks staking a claim on Ron for Granger?

Harry let them have the map and figure out where to place their dungbombs while he sat in contemplation. He felt like he was missing something and it was making him barmy and just a slight bit alarmed.

“Pansy,” he asked eventually, because Pansy knew everyone, and he was feeling a sense of dread, “who is Peter Pettigrew?”

The Silver Trio all looked up, casting glances at one another. Pansy replied warily, “Harry… Sirius Black killed Peter Pettigrew. You told us, remember?”

Harry stiffened and the rest of the Silver Circle went quiet as Harry’s eyes darted all over the floor. Draco immediately went over to Harry as the twins frowned in utter confoundment.

“Harry?” Draco shook Harry gently and Harry looked at him, but his eyes were calculating.

“I have to get to Remus,” he said suddenly, grabbing all his things in a flurry of movement. He grabbed the map from Fred and whirled out of the room, leaving behind some very confused and worried friends.

Harry ran all the way to Remus’ office, gave the password and locked himself inside waiting for Remus to come back from class. Remus appeared a while after the bell chimed and he was startled to see Harry back so soon in his quarters.

“Harry?”

“Remus! The map! I-I saw -”

Harry spread the map out on Remus' table and tracked all over for Peter Pettigrew. He spotted the name walking down one of the corridors and waved frantically at Remus.

"There!"

Remus walked over and looked to where Harry is pointing. Upon seeing the name, Remus grabbed the map and held it close to his face, as if he couldn't believe it. 

"The map never lies," Remus whispered, sinking back on his heels, still tracking Peter Pettigrew's footsteps. Harry deflated as well, for that wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. This complicated things.

“ _The map never lies._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whaaaaat??? another chapter on the same day????????? i'm bored as hell so here we go~


	24. The Whomping Willow

What did it mean for them if Peter Pettigrew was alive?

Harry had thought about it for the past few months since he and Remus had found out the truth. Remus had no idea how it could be that Pettigrew was alive and wandering around Hogwarts. However, he did tell Harry that Pettigrew's animagus form was a rat. Harry had make the connection in the midst of dazing during DIvination, gasping loudly and inviting Professor Trelawney to ask whether he'd had a vision. After making up a ridiculous story and class ending, Harry ran off to Remus' room, apologising to Ron and Hermione on the way.

"Scabbers! It all makes sense!" he said in a flurry of excitement, bursting into Remus' room. Remus was sitting at his desk, once again grading essays. "What?" Remus asked in confusion.

"I never told you where I saw the name first on the map - I saw it on Ron's bed, next to Ron, in the Gryffindor dorms! You said his animagus was a rat right? Ron's pet rat - Scabbers - he's been with Ron's family for _twelve years_! And he's missing a toe on his front paw! What was left of Pettigrew after Black supposedly blew him up?"

Remus sat back tiredly, "A finger - all that was left was a finger..."

" _Exactly_! So, by that logic, Scabbers is Pettigrew!" Harry panted out. They were silent for a moment. And then Harry asked what they were both thinking.

"What are we going to do?"

Remus sighed. "I - I honestly don't have a clue, Harry. I don't know what happened that night  - or more importantly why he _faked his death_ and stayed in his animagus form for twelve years! I have _no idea_ what's going on, and I fear exposing Peter may somehow be dangerous." Remus rubbed his temples, "Maybe I should take this to Dumbledore."

Harry immediately protested, "You know as well as I do that Dumbledore will try to use this information to his advantage. What if Pettigrew's on our side? Dumbledore could - and would - use his fake death as leverage somehow. I want to know what Pettigrew is doing _before_ we take this to anybody else."

Remus sat up, "Harry, Black was standing over Ron's bed, wasn't he? Does Scabbers usually sleep with Ron?" Harry nodded. Remus hit his desk.

"Black know's Peter's alive. And he knows he's here in Hogwarts and in Gryffindor Tower. Black's after _Peter_! That's why he broke in... Maybe he's not after you after all. But why is Black so interested in killing _Peter_?"

Harry shrugged. Remus sighed deeply, "I think... we should get ahold of Scabbers... Peter. And ask him what's going on."

Harry rubbed his neck sheepishly, "Uh - about that... Crookshanks ate Scabbers?"

-

When Harry received the Firebolt, he immediately looked toward Professor McGonagall, since she'd bought his Nimbus for him in First Year. However, McGonagall hadn't been looking in his direction, immersed in conversation with Professor Sprout. Harry was definitely suspicious. He'd take the broom to her after classes today. He wasn't sure who'd sent it, and with a mad man on the lose...

However, he didn't get the chance to pass the broom to McGonagall. She'd come in to Gryffindor Tower during their free period, Hermione trailing behind her, and confiscated his broom. It wasn't much of a confiscation, really; Harry had simply agreed and passed it over quite happily. However, Ron was not happy with Hermione for getting Harry's world-class broom confiscated, especially when the next Quidditch match was looming. To be honest, Harry wasn't all that pleased with her either, because she'd gone behind his back to do it, even after he'd _told_ her he'd do it after classes. Whatever he was feeling, Ron and Hermione's rift over the Murder of Scabbers widened even more.

The Silver Circle were a bit disappointed that they hadn't gotten to see the Firebolt, but Draco praised Harry for not being 'a dim-witted slug'. Which was high praise coming from Draco. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had been particularly upset in case he wouldn’t get the broom back in time for the match and Oliver had gotten a harsh scolding from Professor McGonagall. But it was _Wood_ \- he loved Quidditch more than _anything_ , possibly even his mother.

Eventually, Harry got the broom back, and Gryffindor won the match against Slytherin. Draco, Vince and Greg were bitter of course, and Draco drawled out haughtily that if he'd been Chaser instead of Seeker, Slytherin would've won. The Silver Circle had celebrated anyway, though things were tense between Draco and Harry until Pansy slapped both of them across the head.

-

Ron and Hermione had had enough of his disappearances. They roped him into going with them to visit Hagrid after dinner, and Harry agreed, if only to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione. 

At Hagrid’s, Hagrid revealed he had found Scabbers, and returned him to a gleeful Ron. Harry eyed the rat curiously, and made a note to tell Remus when they headed back that Pettigrew had been found. They’d stayed until it was almost time for lights out. As they trudged back up to the castle, Ron and Hermione bickered about Scabbers’ alive status and apologies and Harry honestly just wanted to crawl into bed and shut out all their bickering.

Of course, because nothing ever happened how he wanted it to, shit hit the fan.

"Scabbers, keep _still_ ," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still -  _ OUCH _ ! He bit me!"

Scabbers dropped to the ground, and immediately ran off. Ron chased after him, Harry right behind. Harry wasn't about to let this bloke disappear _again_. But Harry halted as he saw what lay further up ahead. Ron had ended up at the base of an agitated Whomping Willow, Scabbers in his hands.

“Ron! Get away from there!”

But as Ron turned around, his eyes widened in fear and he pointed a spasming finger at them. 

“HARRY! HERMIONE! RUN! IT’S THE  **_GRIMM_ ** !”

Sure enough, when Harry and Hermione whipped around, a huge, black, matted, shaggy dog was snarling at them, fangs bared and eyes gleaming. Harry stood stock still, reflex from his time amongst muggles (the whole don't run from a dog thing). Magical dogs were somewhat different though. The Grimm charged at them, and Harry and Hermione ran in opposite directions. But the Grimm wasn't interested in them: it went straight for Ron, who was prone on the floor in shock. The Grimm was lightning quick, and it dragged Ron screaming down into the base of the Whomping Willow. Harry helped Hermione up from where she’d fallen and quickly took charge.

“Hermione. We need to get the teachers.”

“You're going to leave Ron down there with - with that _thing_?” she screeched.

"We're overpowered, _trust me_. The best thing to do is to get the teachers.”

"I can't believe you're going to leave Ron! He's your best friend!"

“ _ This is not the time Hermione _ !”

Suddenly, Crookshanks leaped out from a nearby bush and ran towards the trunk. Hermione shrieked in fear for her beloved cat and Harry had to hold her back. But she needn't have worried; Crookshanks slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk. Abruptly - as though the tree had been turned to stone - it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

"Crookshanks," Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped Harry's arm painfully hard. "How did he know -?" 

"He's friends with that dog," said Harry grimly, and now knowing the dog wasn't something he imagined, he'd pretty much figured out who the dog was. "I've seen them together.”

Now that the apparent danger was over, Harry let go of Hermione, only for her to run straight for the Willow.

"Hermione, no!" he shouted, but she didn't listen, and headed down the opening in the trunk. Harry growled in frustration and ran for the castle. Stupid Gryffindors and their incapacity to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoyyo waddup i rewrote this chapter from scratch which means subsequent chapters will also have to be edited but i should be posting the complete arc today? woot


	25. The Shrieking Shack

" _ **REMUS**_!"

Harry caught Remus just as he was leaving the office. Remus had a wild look in his eyes, and he immediately scanned Harry, "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine! But Black and Pettigrew are down there with Ron and Hermione and _we need to get the other teachers right now_!"

"Yes, yes of course. McGonagall's. _Quickly_."

They hurried to McGonagall's rooms, and she answered their frantic knocking fairly quickly. "Remus? Potter? What is it?"

"Minerva, there's no time to explain, but Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are in the Whomping Willow with Sirius Black right now, and we need to get them out." Remus spoke quickly.

McGonagall nodded grimly, and shot a Patronus down the hallway. Professors Flitwick and Snape hurried out, Snape scowling at Remus and Harry. McGonagall snapped at the Potions professor as the group hastily made their way down to the willow. "Severus! Stop that this _instant_! There are students' lives at stake and I will not have you be _petty_ at such a crucial moment!"

Snape scowled, but nodded and looked towards the Willow instead. By that time, the Willow had become active again, so McGonagall shot a spell right at the knot of wood and it went still again. The group of Professors seemed to have forgotten that Harry was still with them, but Harry wasn't going to sit back and do nothing when he was so involved with all the people down below. Remus, however, still had him in mind, and cloaked him with a Disillusionment Charm.

When the group emerged into the Shrieking Shack, McGonagall sent Remus up ahead to try to calm Black down so that they could safely get the students. Harry followed Remus up the stairs, and they entered the room.

"PROFESSOR! HELP! IT'S _HIM_!" Harry looked to where Ron was pointing and -

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a maniacal grin. He might have been aristocratically handsome once, but it was long gone. Sirius Black pointed a wand at Remus.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry whispered. Black's wand went flying into the air and Remus caught it. Black seemed surprised but put his hands up in surrender.

"No -  _wait_! Remus, _please_ , it's him!"

"Explain what the hell is going on Sirius!" Remus growled. Black still had his eye on Pettigrew, who was squealing in Ron's tight grip.

"Where's Harry? Is he all right -"

"How _dare_ you ask about Harry! You cost him _everything_ Black! You cost _**us**_ everything!" Remus raged. "Explain!"

"I didn't do it! It was Peter! We switched Remus! _We switched_!" Remus paused, then hardened again. "The other professors are downstairs... no dementors. But I'm going to call them up here to get the students out. Don't. Move."

Black eyed the door and Remus huffed, "If you are innocent, you will stay here, and sort this out. You hear me, Black? But if you try anything right now? Professors Flitwick, McGonagall and Snape are ready to drag you back to Azkaban."

Black nodded and Remus called the other Professors up. McGonagall eyed Black warily. But he couldn't seem to meet her eyes. Snape of course, sneered at Black, who glared right back.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "You will be body-bound while we bring you up to the castle. You may argue your case there."

Snape immediately bound Black, but Remus levitated him instead, to Snape's displeasure. Remus turned to where Harry was, glancing at McGonagall before taking off the Disillusionment Charm. "Harry, please get the rat from Mr Weasley."

"Potter! What are you doing here?" McGonagall started, only to get cut off by Ron.

"My rat?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Remus. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks (who'd been hiding somewhere throughout the whole thing) stood up behind Harry’s legs and hissed menacingly.

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly from the air.

"What d'you mean, of course he's a rat -" Harry took the rat from Ron and stupefied it.

“That’s not a rat," Harry said. "That’s an Animagus. His name is Peter Pettigrew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot t h i c c e n s


	26. The Dark Tower

Sirius Black sat body-bound on a chair. The stupefied form of Peter Pettigrew sat tied in another. They were in the Dark Tower.

Professor Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin were crowded into the cell, and watched quietly as Snape administered Veritaserum to both parties. Harry had been permitted to watch the proceedings, as it no doubt concerned him. So he stood nearest to the door under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall. The Minister and his guard then entered the cell, nodding gravely at Harry. Fudge beckoned for the proceedings to start.

" _Ennervate_."

Both still bodies came to life, Black looking around while Pettigrew thrashed and wailed.  "Quiet!" Snape hissed at Pettigrew, who shrank back and whimpered.

"Now," Dumbledore said serenely, "We'll be asking the two of you some questions - Firstly, to confirm the Veritaserum works, what are your full names?"

"Sirius Orion Black, Heir Black." Draco had told Harry Black was his cousin on his mother's side, but apparently Black was the heir to nobility. Huh.

"Peter Timothy Pettigrew," the cowardly man whimpered out unwillingly. 

"Good. Sirius, what happened the night of the Potters' murder?"

"I had switched the Secret-Keeper vow to Peter," he began in a toneless voice. "I'd persuaded James and Lily to use him, because he was less obvious." Black's eyes grew dark, and he glared at Pettigrew with such hatred that Harry could almost feel it physically. "Then _he_ came. Wormtail had enrolled in their little Death Eater club, and he told Voldemort where the Potters were. I heard about it from some people on the street that - that Voldemort had murdered the Potters. I rushed to the house, and I saw James -" his voice cracked.

Harry could see it, see this man encounter his father's body. Remus had closed his eyes and turned away, and McGonagall put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. Black got control of himself and continued.

"I went up the stairs, and I saw Lily -" Snape turned away then, which was odd. "She - she was in front of Harry's crib. Harry was still in there, and he was crying - blood gushing down from the scar and everything. I picked him up and got him out of there. And then Hagrid arrived. I didn't want to give you up, Harry -" Sirius said earnestly, almost begging, "I _didn't_. You were _mine_. Lily and James _trusted_ me to take care of you. But Dumbledore insisted, and I was barely in my twenties and I didn't know what to do. My best friends had been _**murdered**_ , another betrayed them. And Peter was the only one who knew the address - and it had to have been him. And then I found him in the middle of a muggle street not far from Godric's Hollow - and the traitor blew up the street, cut his own finger off and transformed, running down with all the other _rats_ into the sewage." Black snarled the last part so savagely, McGonagall raised her wand.

"Thank you, Sirius." The Headmaster said, and Sirius glared at him just as fiercely as Pettigrew.

"You knew! You knew it was him! You conducted the switch for us! _You knew and I still went to Azkaban without a trial_! _YOU TOOK HARRY FROM ME AND SENT ME TO THE DEMENTORS_!"

Everyone looked at Dumbledore in shock, and the man stood there, head cast down. "Albus! How could you!"

"Minerva, now is not the time," Dumbledore said softly, and boy **_oh boy_** did Harry want to _wring_ his wrinkled neck. He'd taken a chance at a good childhood with someone who loved him, who wouldn't beat him or starve him, who'd raise him with the knowledge of the magical world. He'd taken it all from Harry, Harry's second chance!

Fudge seemed to share the same outrage that his predecessor hadn't given Black a trial, and frowned deeply at Dumbledore. "We will sort this out _later_ , Albus. Continue the questioning of Peter Pettigrew."

"Peter." Dumbledore addressed, ignoring the stares being directed at him. "Did you willingly tell Voldemort the location of the Potters?"

"Yes."

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"Do you plead guilty to abetment of the murder of James and Lily Potter?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think that will be sufficient, Minister. Sirius Black is innocent and Peter Pettigrew is guilty."

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk. Fudge nodded to his guard, who swiftly grabbed Pettigrew and walked him out the door, wand to his back. He nodded to Remus, who quickly undid Sirius' bindings and pulled the man into a hug. While that was going on, the Minister turned to Dumbledore.

"Now, regarding the non-existent trial and omission of information, as well as the kidnapping of Harry Potter -"

"Minister, I was not within any power to push for a trial. Your predecessor had decided he was guilty and sentenced him as such. Regarding Harry - I simply moved him to his next living relatives, considering that Sirius had given him up -"

"Don't you _dare_ try to tell me I gave Harry up! I thought you were going to look after him! Not dump him to be abused and starved at the hands of Lily's so-called family! It was in her will! I was witness! Harry was _never_ , _under any circumstance_ to go to the Dursleys!" Sirius hissed, trying to get to Dumbledore, but Remus - in a surprising show of strength, managed to hold him back.

The Minister cleared his throat, "We will pull up the Potters' will. It seems that my predecessor hadn't thought of that either in his haste. I do apologise on behalf of him, Mr Potter." Harry nodded, throat constricted. "But while we're sorting that out, it is established that Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather. After mental evaluation and some medical care, Harry will be under Heir Black's care -"

"Minister -" Dumbledore interrupted but Fudge stood his ground. 

" _None of us_ are above the law, Dumbledore, but considering your standing, and how you've saved Wizarding Europe from Grindlewald, I will allow this leeway just _once_. Be glad I'm not having you convicted, Headmaster."

The guard suddenly rushed back in, "Minister! Pettigrew! He got away!"

" _What? How?_ "

"He transformed, sir! In-into a rat! We had no idea he was an animagus. He slipped right through the binds and ran off. We gave chase, but he went into the Forbidden Forest sir. The dementors are searching for him now. But it's unlikely they'll find him."

" _For Godric's sake -_ get the word out at the ministry." Fudge turned to Sirius. "How _did_ you escape by the way? I'm going to need to fix that problem immediately."

"Same reason you won't find Pettigrew using Dementors. I'm an animagus. The Dementors can't sense animals, so I slipped out of my cell and swam away."

"And how did you know where Pettigrew was?"

"You delivered the Prophet to me, Minister. He was the rat on the boy's shoulder on the front page."

Fudge nodded in understanding, brushing off his robes and putting his hate on. "Well. Thank you, Professors, for your work in detaining the criminal. I'm only sorry to say that he won't be seeing justice anytime soon. Excuse me, I must get back to the ministry. Good day." And the Minister walked out.


	27. Remus' Rooms

"Lupin," Snape interrupted the tense silence, "You haven't taken your potion. The moon will rise soon."

Harry looked out the entryway to see that night had indeed fallen. Remus nodded, looking a bit pale, and Black - or rather Sirius now - held his arm.

"Come now, the two of you. I'll accompany you back to your room Remus, and then I'll send Potter off to the dorms," McGonagall said.

Remus nodded, and Sirius helped him out of the cell. Harry and Professor McGonagall followed after. Harry walked forward to help Remus.

"Do you have a vial on you?" Harry asked. Remus shook his head and Harry tutted, "I told you to didn't I?" 

He ignored Sirius' curious look and reached into his shirt for the vial he kept around his neck. He'd have to remember to replace it. He passed the vial to Remus, who quickly swallowed it. 

"Was that your potion Remus?" McGonagall asked suspiciously, and Remus nodded. She settled in to the silence, accompanying the trio to Remus' rooms.

When they reached, Harry was reluctant to go. There was so much he wanted to ask, wanted to know. He turned to McGonagall, who was looking at him expectantly. She saw his face, and pursed her lips, but eventually - "I'll wait until Professor Lupin is transformed and ensure the potion has worked before I leave."

Harry grinned toothily at her and she frowned at him. 

They sat in Remus' rooms for a while, an awkward silence amongst them. Remus went into his room to begin the painful transformation. Once the muffled cries had ended, the door to his room opened, and a tall wolf-like creature limped out on all fours. Both Sirius and Harry immediately rushed forward to tend to him. McGonagall watched this sadly, for they had all endured so much suffering. But she was glad they had finally found each other. She took her leave then, with a parting "I will see you in the morning, Lupin, Black, Potter."

-

Once they'd gotten Remus settled (he'd batted them off after fifteen minutes of fussing), Sirius looked at Harry.

"I... I don't know if you know - well I mean you must know after all that tosh - but... James and Lily made me your Godfather."

"Yes, I know. I've known for a while now." Harry said quietly. Moony was watching them, ears perked up. Harry continued, "Was it you who sent the Firebolt?"

Sirius brightened, "Yes! I - I missed out on at least thirteen of your birthdays - I figure I owed you at least a decent present. Your flying is splendid by the way. James would've been proud."

"I hope so too. Um - do you want to get a change of clothes? And maybe a shower?" Harry asked awkwardly. Sirius seemed to realise he was still in his Azkaban uniform. 

"Oh - yeah, all right. Moony, you don't mind do you?" Moony shook his head and nodded at Harry. Harry showed Sirius where the shower was, and went through Remus' wardrobe for clothes. He left a warm sweater and a pair of trousers and some underwear out for Sirius and went back to the sitting room to wait with Remus.

When Sirius came out, having properly shaved, he looked less gaunt, and had regained some of the trademark aristocratic Black looks. He looked more like the man in Harry's photo album, though skinny and frail looking.

"Harry, I know it's a bit fast... but do you want to come and live with me?" Sirius asked quietly, almost reserved. He sounded nothing like the Padfoot Remus had always told Harry about. Azkaban seemed to have changed him.

"Yes! Of course!" Harry said immediately and Sirius smiled widely. 

"I've been thinking, you see. I... Well, the Blacks have a manor, Grimmauld Place. I haven't been there in a while, even longer than I've been in Azkaban to be honest. My family weren't exactly happy with me. I don't even know if the house will still respond to me, especially after how much 'wrong' I've done. I never looked after it, never liked it..."

Harry nodded, urging Sirius to continue even as he trailed off. Sirius gathered himself again and continued.

"We could try, I suppose with the Manor. But if it doesn't work out, which is highly possible, I was thinking of starting a garage, for both magical and muggle."

"Really? You know a lot about muggle stuff?" Harry asked in surprise. Sirius chuckled, "I was a bit of a rebellious kid. I lived in the muggle world since I was sixteen. And I always made Lily and Remus drag me around looking at museums and concerts and stuff. And uh, I had a flying motorbike, though I passed it off to Hagrid to get you safely to Dumbledore -"

"Wait the flying motorbike actually happened? I remember that!"

Sirius laughed in delightm eyes shining as he looked at his godson, "Yes, it was real, your father and I worked on it during our summers. Your grandmother would always yell at us about it but she never stopped us. We finally got it to work when we were eighteen and I almost crashed into a tree."

"Wicked!" Harry grinned.

"So yeah, I want to start a garage, fix up some things you know? And Remus - maybe you could live with us? Keep us out of trouble?" Sirius joked. Remus huffed out a breath and Harry nodded heartily, "Please Remus?"

Remus rolled his eyes, and gestured at his mouth. Oh, right, he couldn't talk right now. Harry flushed and Sirius chuckled, "But enough about that. Tell me about yourself, Harry. The only thing I really know about you is your penchant for Quidditch and that your first word was 'Moony'."

"My first word was Moony?" Harry laughed as Moony bumped his leg. "Uh - well - I'm a Gryffindor, my grades are all right, though they're pulling up with help from my friends."

"Ron and Hermione right?"

Harry clasped his fingers together. "Not exactly, I mean sure we've been friends through the past three years, but they're kind of spying on me for Dumbledore?"

"What?" Sirius growled suddenly. Harry shrugged, he was over it, "Yeah, I found out, though they don't know I know. And in my second year, there was this basilisk thing going on - uh, I'll explain another time - but I became friends with Draco Malfoy, and then subsequently a couple of other Slytherins, and honestly they're pretty nice people but everyone has this weird notion about 'Slytherins are evil, Gryffindors are good', which is rubbish by the way."

Sirius furrowed his brows but then went with a 'eh'  like he could care less and gestured for him to continue.

"I've got other friends though. Neville Longbottom's cool, he helps me out with Herbology and I help him out with Defense."

"Alice and Frank's boy?" Sirius asked Remus, who nodded.

"And then there's Fred and George Weasley - they're not spying on me for Dumbledore, they're my friends by the way. They rescued me from the Dursley's last August. They're the pranksters of the school and they're the ones who nicked the Marauder's Map and gave it to me."

"Excellent! I'll have to meet them someday. Give them a few tips and tricks." Sirius said and Harry smiled. 


	28. The Headmaster's Office

“What do you mean I can’t go live with my Godfather?” Harry gritted out through clenched teeth.

Dumbledore twinkled benignly at him, “Harry, my boy, you’ve barely met the man, and he’s spent more than a decade in Azkaban. I cannot possibly allow you to live with someone who may not be mentally stable.”

Harry fumed, he’d had enough of Dumbledore’s manipulation and lies. “That’s funny, because the _Minister for Magic_ said Sirius had the right as my legal guardian to claim me. I don’t see how you have anything to do with it, _Headmaster_.”

Dumbledore lost the twinkle in his eye. He stared down at Harry, his blue eyes icy, “You will not be living with Sirius Black. I will make sure of it.”

Harry glared back with all his might, “He’s my Godfather! And a sure lot better than the Dursleys, whom you’ve forced me to live with for thirteen years!”

Dumbledore banged his fist on the desk and Harry drew himself up, “ _You will not_! I will involve the Ministry and legalities if I have to - you will not live with Sirius Black and you will continue living with the Dursleys to secure your warding!”

Harry suppressed the tingles in his veins - bad things tended to happen when he tingled. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the menacing old man, who seemed to vibrate with magic himself. 

“The Ministry owes Sirius Black 12 years worth of debt, after wrongly imprisoning him and subjecting him to the Dementors without a proper trial. The Ministry will definitely be on his side should I choose to live with him. Sirius Black is also my Godfather, _my legal guardian_. He has every right and opportunity to formally adopt me. Not only that, I don’t see what you have to do with it Headmaster. Why are you so adamant about me staying at the Dursleys, where I have been mistreated and bullied?”

Dumbledore seemed to falter and forced out a smile again when the portraits in his study started muttering. “Harry... my boy, I was simply acting out of worry for you. After all, Sirius Black had been subjected to the Dementors; he may not be in his right mind. Furthermore, he will keep the company of Professor Lupin, who has a condition that may not put him in a favourable light -”

“I know Professor Lupin is a werewolf, and I don’t care. You seem to forget Headmaster, that it was _you_  who subjected Sirius to the Dementors, when you didn’t even vouch for him to have a formal hearing, despite knowing of his innocence. Furthermore, I’m sure you had no right at all to remove me from Sirius’ care and send me to the Dursleys, no matter how honourable your intentions were. Not to mention, if the Ministry gets wind of what’s been happening to me the past 13 years under the Dursleys…”

The portraits of the previous Headmasters muttered and whispered amongst themselves, curious and suspicious. Dumbledore took one look at them and quickly changed his approach. “But my dear boy, you _need_ to stay with the Dursleys so that the magic that protects you - the one that came from your mother’s sacrifice - will be able to be sustained and continue to shield you from Voldemort.”

Harry raised a brow, “What kind of wards are at the Dursleys?”

From Dumbledore’s spiel about the power and magic of love and sacrifice, Harry deduced that his mother had performed a blood magic ritual. He and the Silver Circle had discussed ‘light’ and ‘dark’ magic at length, and the topic of blood magic sprung up as a ‘grey’ magic. While the twins and Draco argued over the classification of blood magic, Harry had learned quite a bit of information.  He would need to consult with Remus about the blood magic ritual then, before Dumbledore managed to convince the Ministry to keep him with the Dursleys instead.

“I will think about it. In the meantime, good day Headmaster.” Harry nodded his head at the manipulative old bugger, and stormed off. Once outside the office, he headed into an alcove and checked the Map for Remus’ name. He found it, and then proceeded to dash towards Remus’ quarters as fast as he could. He burst in on a pale and noticeably less scarred Remus, as well as his cleaned up, new-found Godfather. Sirius still looked shaky and haggard and wary, but having shaved and showered, and wearing one of Remus’ soft sweatshirts from the Muggle world, as well as loose pajama pants, he looked better. Harry felt a rush of affection for the man, who looked more like he had in his parents’ wedding photograph. Harry tried to forget he had been ready to kill this man just yesterday.

“Remus, Sirius.” Harry greeted. The two men nodded at him over steaming cups of tea, and Remus gestured for him to sit down. Harry ignored him and started checking over the werewolf, to Remus’ great resignation. Sirius gave a throaty chuckle, eyes on Harry like he was starved, “Just like James.”

Harry blinked and smiled sadly. He loved his parents dearly, and their deaths would always have an impact on his life, but he hadn’t really known them, couldn’t remember their warm embrace, or their habits or their personalities. He had almost no knowledge of who his parents really were, and he honestly didn’t mind.

He really needed a therapist.

Harry cleared his throat, “I’ve just come back from Dumbledore’s. He told me a few things I really didn’t like.”

Sirius growled and sat up, “What did he say?”

Harry shrugged and continued cleaning Remus’ minimal wounds, “Said I couldn’t live with you, he wouldn’t allow it. Threatened to call in favours at the Ministry.”

Remus looked up so fast Harry heard his neck snap, “What?”

“That doesn’t matter, he has nothing to do with it and I sort of blackmailed him myself when he tried to do that to me. But then he brought up Mum’s sacrifice and the wards at the Dursleys. I asked him about it, and I need to know if there’s a way we can counter his every argument.”

Remus sighed and shushed Sirius, “What did he tell you then?”

Harry put a plaster over the final wound and went over to the bathroom to wash his hands. His voice reached the two adults from the bathroom, “From his spiel about love and sacrifice, sounded to me like it was blood magic Mum used.”

He came out, drying his hands on his school slacks. Remus and Sirius were communicating silently, through minimal head movements and raised eyebrows. Harry supposed they were falling back into their old habits again, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad - not when his father's best friends had regained some hope in the world. Finally, Sirius turned to him.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if Lily found a spell to keep you safe. She was always a researcher, and she had no qualms about dark or light magic if there was a way to protect you. What else did Dumbledore say?”

Harry thought for a bit, “He said that since it was Mum’s sacrifice, it must be sealed by acceptance by one of her relatives - which means Aunt Petunia. He also mentioned that as long as I call the Dursleys ‘home’, the wards will hold.”

Sirius frowned, “If that’s the case, I don’t know if it’s possible for you to live with me without the wards being put up. I don’t want to risk you Harry, especially not now with Peter on the loose and running back to the Dark Lord.”

Remus cut in, “But Pads… Lily never agreed to let Petunia take care of Harry, and by then, her parents had been killed, Petunia would have been her only option. Lily wouldn’t have let that happen. She’d sooner give Harry to Voldemort himself.”

“Perhaps, but Lily always had backup plans. We’ll never know until we read their will, besides, how sure are we that Lily tied the ward to Petunia?” Sirius countered. They paused to think, and Harry sighed again.

“It always comes down to blood doesn’t it?”

Sirius leaped up, almost spilling his tea all over himself, “That’s it!”

“Sirius! Careful! That’s my favourite sweatshirt -”

“I’ll make a blood-bond!”

“... WHAT?” Remus said indignantly. "With whom?"

"Harry of course! He's got a bit of Lily's blood in him doesn't he? If we did a blood-bond, I'd be his blood relative, same thing! Then he could live with me, and the wards would copy themselves to our dwelling as well."

Remus seemed to understand where Sirius was coming from. He fiddled with his quill and stared at the window, “Blood-bonds aren’t commonly practiced in the Wizarding World anymore, but certain pureblood families still do it. It involves the exchanging of blood, hence a blood-bond. If Sirius were to have a bit of Lily's blood in him -”

“He’d be my relative! And as long as I’m housed under someone with Mum’s blood, the wards around me will hold!” Harry exclaimed. Sirius swept Harry up into a celebratory dance and they laughed for a minute.

“However,” Remus interjected sorrowfully, “It may not work out the way we want it to. If Dumbledore mentioned calling the Dursleys ‘home’ and referred to Petunia being the main tie, it may refer to the physical building as well as Petunia.”

“I doubt it,” Harry said, “If he wanted me to stay at the Dursleys for protection, he could have just told me that first thing instead of spending more time convincing me Sirius wasn’t a good parental figure for me.”

“That old coot, I’ll show him -”

“That is true,” Remus agreed over Sirius’ mumbled monologue, “Perhaps, we should also have you make a blood-bond with Petunia, Sirius. Just in case.”

“Excellent idea Remus!” Sirius boomed, clapping him on the back. "Let’s do it now, when Dumbledore least expects it.”

“But -” Harry spluttered, and was immediately shushed by Sirius.

“Remus, please get some of Petunia’s blood for me? In the meantime, Harry and I will sneak out to Hogsmeade and I’ll Floo us to the Ministry so we can read the will and settle everything.”

Remus sighed but got up, wincing slightly as he did so, “Half an hour?”

“Twenty minutes. Thank you, darling.”

“Ugh, fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /silently inserts some wolfstar where you can see it if you squint/


	29. The Ministry

“Welcome to the Department of Internal Affairs, how may I help you today?”

Sirius smiled at the girl at the front desk, who looked up only to shriek in terror.

_ “ SIRIUS BLACK! HELP! QUICK !” _

“Now hold on a minute -”

_ “ Miss _ _!”_ Harry stepped in front of Sirius and caught the attention of the panicking desk-girl. She swivelled her head back and forth, from Sirius to Harry and back to Sirius again. Her wand was clutched tightly in her fist and she looked about ready to faint.

“Miss, please calm down, Sirius Black was cleared of all charges by the Minister Cornelius Fudge himself. Check the Prophet if you must. Besides he’s with me.”

She pointed a shaky finger at him, wide-eyed, _“_ _ You're H-Harry P-Potter !” _

“Yes, yes I am. Now if everything's settled, could you direct us to where we could find answers to blood-bond enquiries?” Harry asked charmingly, exuding some of the pureblood lustre that oozed off the Slytherins. She flustered and scribbled something on a spare bit of parchment; passing it to Harry, and kept her eyes on Sirius the whole time. 

They walked off without any interruptions afterwards. They approached the Family Matters Office and Harry rapped smartly on the door. It opened by itself and they stepped into a rather pristine and well-decorated office. There was a small waiting area, and three visible desks a little ways off. Behind the desks were rows and columns of neat files and drawers. 

They approached one of the employees at the desk, and Harry spoke first, “Hello Ma’am, we’re here to inquire about blood-bond proceedings.”

The woman at the desk, who had been scrawling on a bit of parchment, snapped her head up in shock, “My goodness! That's not a question we deal with every day. Come, sit. Mr Potter, Mr Black, I can suspect why you're here. My name is Safiya Kumar.”

They shook her hand and sat down. Sirius spoke hesitantly, “The situation we have is a bit of a strange one. I’ve just been freed from wrongful imprisonment in Azkaban, and Harry has been living with his relatives the past twelve years at the behest of Albus Dumbledore. What is to be said next is obviously very sensitive information and cannot be revealed to anyone.”

Ms Kumar nodded severely, “Understood. We have a strict confidentiality policy. It's got a curse on it if we break it, so no worries about that. I won't breathe a word.”

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look, then refocused back on Ms Kumar. 

“When Harry defeated Vo...  _ You-Know-Who - _  it was actually his mother, Lily Evans, who cast a blood magic ritual that prevented You-Know-Who from killing Harry. After that, according to Albus Dumbledore, Harry needed to be placed with his mother's only living relatives. This was done to seal the ritual apparently.” 

Ms Kumar frowned, “And where were  _ you _ , Mr Black, when this happened?” Sirius grimaced.

“I gave Harry to Rubeus Hagrid on Albus Dumbledore's orders. I arrived just before Hagrid did and got Harry out of the house.”

Ms Kumar waved her wand, and a stack of files landed in front of her. She flipped through it, clearly searching for something. Harry and Sirius waited in silence. She looked up after a while, confusion etched on her features, “Albus Dumbledore has no rights to Harry Potter. The will left by James Potter and Lily Evans has yet to be read. It's located at Gringotts.”

Ms Kumar slammed the file shut and Harry jumped. She looked livid as she stared at him, “How have your relatives been treating you Mr Potter?”

Harry looked her straight in the eye and she shivered slightly, “Poorly. They treat me like  _ scum _ . Occasionally beat me. I just want out.”

Ms Kumar cursed under her breath.

“Albus Dumbledore had no right to remove you from your Godfather that night. I've read what the Prophet printed, and what the memos wrote, and I had my own suspicions. You know you can press charges?”

“I don't want to,” Harry said before Sirius could agree. “It's my leverage over Dumbledore. And I need him. He's the only one You-Know-Who is afraid of. He's my defence against him. But I do want out from the Dursleys. I don't want him having more power over me than he does now.”

Ms Kumar smiled tensely, “You're very smart Mr Potter, I’ll give you that. However, I will make a note about his multiple infractions against you.”

She scrawled down something on a memo and attached it to the file. Then she looked at them again, “All right, what can I do to help you with the blood-bond?”

Sirius leaned forward eagerly, “Dumbledore says that the wards that protect Harry against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will only be effective as long as he calls that place ‘home’. We aren't sure if that means Harry must physically live with them. Alternatively, the wards could be tied to the blood of Lily Evans - which would be the family is currently living with. I don't want to risk Harry’s safety, but I don't want him living with them anymore.”

Ms Kumar frowned at him, “You-Know-Who is dead.”

Sirius shook his head, “There was no body. And there have been a few incidents which have led me to believe he’s simply in hiding.”

Harry looked at Sirius sharply. How did he know Voldemort was still alive? Harry hadn't told him about his first year at Hogwarts. Ms Kumar shook her head and sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Fine. Look, we’ve never dealt with a case like this before, where so much relies on this protection, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve had enough family disputes that I know what I'm doing. Firstly, are you sure the ritual is tied to the mother? Or is it tied to Harry himself?”

Sirius shook his head, “We don't know.”

“Do you know who administered the wards? It can’t have been Lily Evans if she made a blood sacrifice -” she paused and gave Harry an apologetic look, “I’m sorry for sounding so clinical, it must be hard for you -”

“I’m fine,” he cut her off, shifting uncomfortably, “Please, go on.” 

“Right, so…”

Sirius cleared his throat, “In that case I believe Dumbledore was the one to place the wards on him. Hagrid isn’t capable of such magic, and only he and Dumbledore knew where Harry was to be taken.”

“In that case, he must have had no choice but to tie the ward to Harry. Placing wards on Muggles never work due to the lack of magic to sustain them. It may be have been tied to the Muggle dwelling. I will have to check what the wards are tied to.”

She squinted at her notes, “In the meantime, I suggest you and Mr Potter do a blood exchange to create a blood-bond. As long as Mr Potter’s place of residence doesn’t change, I doubt the wards will be affected. I’ll check out the wards personally after this.”

Sirius perked up, “So I don't need the blood of his actual relatives?”

“Not likely, but I won’t rule it out. Rituals tend to be simple and have many loopholes. Blood-bonds for example can be used in marriage or in adoption. All it does is create a bond. Doesn’t necessarily signify anything.”

“Can you do the bond now then?” Harry asked anxiously.

Ms Kumar smiled, “Yes. Let me get my papers in order and then I’ll conduct the blood exchange first.”

When she was ready, she brought them into a small, private room, with only a sofa and a desk and chair. She had them stand facing each other, and she stood facing them. She took Sirius’ hand first, “I'm going to make a small cut, just enough to get some blood.”

She collected his blood in a tiny vial, and did the same with Harry. She cast a few spells over the vials.

(“To check if they have any diseases,” she told them.)

Then she had them clasp their wounded hands together, blood mixing. Harry felt a faint, but deep tingle of magic in the air as they clasped hands.

“So mote it be,” she intoned deeply. “Now! The formal adoption. Here, sign these and then I’ll heal the cut.”

When they were done, Ms Kumar escorted them back to the waiting area while she processed the information. Remus walked in a while later, a vial of red blood in his pocket.

“Hey Remus, guess who's been adopted?” Harry joked. Remus looked between the two of them in resigned affection.

“I made her knife slip for nothing didn't I?”

“Not really,” Sirius said, “Ms Kumar - she’s our - uh - informant? Well anyway, she said in the instance of Harry living with us, we might need the blood to transfer the wards to us instead of  _ them _ .”

Remus frowned, and Harry reached up and poked his cheek. Remus smiled down at him and slipped into the space next to Harry, “Whatever it is, we’ll do our best to get you out of there without any magical repercussions.”

Harry grinned mischievously, “And what of legal repercussions?”

Remus smirked and they laughed. Ms Kumar told them the processing would take a while, so the unruly trio floo’d to Nottingham for lunch. As they wandered the streets, they looked for a place to eat.

“What would you like to eat Harry?” Sirius asked. Harry shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve never really had anything good besides what they serve at Hogwarts.”

Sirius frowned until Remus nudged him in the ribs. Still coughing from that particularly sharp jab, Sirius wheezed out, “There’s a Mediterranean restaurant just down Thurland Street, it’s quite the riot I heard.”

Remus raised a brow, “Where, exactly, did you hear?”

Sirius snorted, “Couple of birds were talking about it at the Ministry. Not everything I know comes from twelve years ago Remus.”

Remus winced and muttered an apology, but Sirius waved it off. “It’s fine, we’re all still getting used to this. All right lads, let’s go then.”

Harry enjoyed the food at Yamas immensely. He’d never had anything that wasn’t British cuisine before, and he wondered if Draco or the twins had ever tried mediterranean food. Perhaps when they were all older, they’d schedule a day during the summer holidays. In the meantime, Harry was full, and they returned to the Ministry in London.

Ms Kumar met them in the same small room. After introductions were made between her and Remus, he settled down on the couch while Kumar spoke to Sirius and Harry.

“I’ve taken the liberty of filling up all your information for you. Mr Black should probably check it over before it’s finalised. You’ll also have the opportunity to change your name Mr Potter, if you should feel like doing so.”

Harry gaped like a fish, “Change my name? Whatever for?”

“Most adoptees tend to change their surnames,” Kumar informed him. Sirius had paused in his reading and Remus was listening in. Harry knew all that because Sirius wasn’t muttering under his breath and Remus was stalwartly looking in the opposite direction. There was a tense moment before Harry made his decision.

“Harold James Potter-Black.”


	30. Gringott's

Afterwards, they'd gone to Gringotts to hear Lily and James' will, and so Sirius could collect his inheritance.

Sirius approached the Goblin near the end and said eloquently, "May your gold grow and your enemies bleed."

The Goblin eyed him and nodded, "May yours die a painful death. How may we help?"

"We're here to inquire about the Potter estate, and the Black estate." The Goblin waved over a colleague, who nodded and showed them to a finely decorated sitting room. They sat there in a comfortable silence until an old and grizzled Goblin entered.

"Greetings. I am Rosenthal, and I manage the Potter Estate. My colleague who manages the Black Estate will be along shortly." He brought forth a heavy chest and whipped it open. Rosenthal withdrew a file from the pile of papers within, and opened it. He began to read.

"The will and testament of Lord and Lady Potter, circa 1980..."

Rosenthal read on about some of the properties and businesses that Harry couldn't understand, but Sirius and Remus paid rapt attention to. Then the Goblin went through the establishment of some requirements regarding the Potter finances. Finally, Rosenthal reached the part they'd been looking forward to.

"We leave all our assets to our son, Harry James Potter. He will have sole control of all assets, including liquid assets, and this shall not change until the provision of his own will, drawn up and consented to at the age of thirty. In the event of our untimely death, custody of our son will go to Sirius Orion Black. In the event of Sirius Orion Black's unavailability, the custody of our son goes to Remus John Lupin. In the event of Remus John Lupin's unavailability, the custody of our son goes to Lord and Lady Longbottom. In no event shall custody of our son go to one Petunia Emily Evans née Dursley and one Vernon Dursley."

"There! That's all the evidence we need to hold over Dumbledore." Sirius said, and Rosenthal agreed. Rosenthal looked at Harry, "Heir Potter, we have been maintaining your shares and interests in various businesses your family owns for the past twelve years. You will find all records in this chest. However, now that you've come forth as Heir Potter, we at Gringotts will accede to a request to withdraw from managing the family finances."

Harry shook his head immediately, "No, please continue to maintain my shares and businesses. I am unprepared to face these duties, and need time to - well - learn."

Rosenthal simply nodded. "I will be glad to be of assistance to aiding in your quest to learn more about your finances Heir Potter."

Rosenthal read the rest of the will, as was per protocol. It was a load of fancy legal lingo that didn't really mean much to Harry, but Remus and Sirius were listening intently, so he figured if there was anything important, they would deal with it. It was a nice feeling, having adults deal with adult things.

As Rosenthal finished, another Goblin entered the room, a floating chest following behind him.

"Greetings, may your gold flourish and enemies perish. I am Danggrip. I manage the Black Estate." Danggrip floated out a couple of papers and set them in front of Sirius. "Sign there and acknowledge your claim to the Black inheritance, please."

Sirius read over whatever it was carefully, asking Danggrip a few questions. He signed it and slit his thumb, pressing the blood into the parchment. The parchment glowed a little, and then settled. Danggrip nodded and then he and Rosenthal stood.

“Please wait here for your lawyer, we alerted her to your presence and she's requested to speak with you."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance but nodded. Harry followed Sirius and Remus in bowing to the Goblins. They bowed back and they parted with another Goblin greeting about blood and guts. A hijabi woman wearing a suit entered the room a few minutes later. She smiled at them and shook their hands in greeting. "Good afternoon, my name is Sheila Amzah, and I'm the lawyer for the Potter Estate."

Sirius squinted at her, "I don't recall James ever mentioning a lawyer..."

"My firm is on retainer to House Potter, we assist in all its legal affairs," she replied smoothly. She sat down and nodded at Harry. "I'm here because Gringotts notified me of your coming to claim your title. I'm here to sort out the paperwork and follow up on your actions."

"Uh - all right - so what do you need to know?" Harry asked, unsure.

With a flick of her wand, a few documents flew out of her bag and settled in front of Harry. "These are documents I've drawn up regarding your guardianship and custody, which I will be filing in the Courts later today. As you can see -" she flicked her wand and the parchment highlighted a paragraph in a soft glow. "- I will be filing your custody under Lord Sirius Orion Black. I've also included the amendment to your name that you filed earlier in the Family Matters Office."

Harry nodded and shifted so that Sirius could read over the document. "Are you sure Harry can come into my care so easily? I understand there's usually a long process involved, going to court and such."

"Minister Fudge made contact with me this morning. He told me the circumstances that caused this entire headache and has opted to bypass court proceedings, especially because your wrongful imprisonment doesn't look good on the MInistry. However, we'll need you to come in for a psychological evaluation at St. Mungo's..."

"Of course, I'll come in now, and we'll sign this after. Remus, Harry, perhaps you should go back to Hogwarts first."

Remus nodded. "We'll see you later then."

-

"That bloody bast-"

"Harry!" Remus chided, looking severely at Harry. Harry huffed. He was sat in Remus' rooms - or rather what used to be Remus' rooms. It was two days before the end of school term, and instead of out relaxing with his friends, Harry was grumbling and complaining about Severus freaking Snape. Snape - in a fit of anger at Sirius' innocence - revealed that Remus was a werewolf to his Slytherins. 

It didn't matter anyway. Remus had already stormed up to Dumbledore's office and told the conniving old fart that he quit. Remus had been in the midst of packing when Harry came by to tell him about the revelation. 

"He didn't have the right!" Harry said indignantly, but Remus smiled calmly at him, "It's fine, really Harry. I don't mind people knowing I'm a werewolf - not when I have you and Sirius looking out for me."

Harry deflated. Remus finished packing by shrinking the Grindylow tank and slipping it into his pocket. He was leaving today, to get away from Dumbledore and the accusing letters from angry parents. Harry was upset that Remus wouldn't be able to have a proper goodbye, but Harry would be seeing Remus in two days at King's Cross, so there wasn't really much to be sad about.

As Harry and Remus walked down the grounds of Hogwarts towards Hogsmeade, students from every house and every year made appearances, thanking Remus for being an excellent teacher, giving him small tokens of gratitude - mostly chocolates. Remus chuckled with each bar of chocolate he received, feeling tremendously touched that the students were sad to see him go.

Fred and George appeared, bearing gifts from the Slytherins. Remus was pleasantly surprised and shrank all his gifts, slipping them into his coat pocket. Fred and George accompanied Harry and Remus down the road, where a stunning, shiny, rumbling motorbike waited. Sirius leaned on the side of the bike, like some sort of romance novel hero. Harry rolled his eyes at his dramatic godfather.

Sirius was legally Harry's guardian, thanks to the favour from Fudge. And with the Black inheritance, he'd spent the whole of yesterday sorting out his affairs. No doubt he was still busy sorting them out, so Harry would have a comfortable home to go to when he left Hogwarts in two days. Sirius took Remus' suitcase and loaded it into the expanded trunk underneath the seat. Once that was done, Sirius and Remus stood in front of Harry.

"We'll pick you up from King's Cross all right?" Sirius said, messing up Harry's hair. 

"Yeah, I'll see you guys." Harry said, smiling at the thought of finally getting his chance at a real family.

Remus hugged him one last time and Sirius threw something to Fred. Fred caught it in his hands, lifting it up to see what it was.

"What is it?" George asked curiously. Sirius grinned, "A prank of the Marauders' design. I called it PortaParty back in the day."

Remus' head snapped up, "PortaPar-! Sirius! How did you even -"

"Well!" Sirius interrupted, clapping his hands together, "See you lot in two days! Remus, darling, your helmet. I want your input on the new place."


	31. Privet Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Year Four!!!

Ms Kumar had gotten back to them on the wards at the Dursleys just before Harry finished term at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the wards were tied to Number 4, Privet Drive, by the esteemed Headmaster himself.

“Rightly,” Ms Kumar had said disgustedly, “The wards should be anchored to an object that the wizard it’s tied to carries all the time.”

Dumbledore had also apparently weaved in a sort of security measure that prevented the protection from dissolving. If Harry stayed a minimum of two weeks at the Dursleys, the protection would extend to a year. It was a tricky bit of magic but it _had_ helped Harry when he was at Hogwarts. Cue first year disintegration of Quirrell.

However, therein lay the problem. Attempting to transfer the anchor and wards to a new dwelling could possibly dissolve the protection, and no one was willing to put the Boy-Who-Lived at risk. Dumbledore’s actions thirteen years ago had still managed to fuck him over in the present. 

Draco found Harry sulking in the kitchens. He sighed and walked over, sitting gracefully down next to Harry. “Potter, sometimes I understand that you’re a bit thick, but you _do_ realise you have - ugh I can’t believe I’m saying this but - a pureblood arsenal within your reach.” 

“I’m not in the mood Draco.” Harry growled. Draco rolled his eyes. “Have you tried buying the place?”

Harry looked up in disgust, “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because then you could kick your stupid relatives out and live in it instead.”

Harry straightened, holding his chin in his hands as he stared at Draco. Draco, only by grace of his pureblood upbringing, didn’t squirm under Harry’s green gaze.

“That is _genius_. _You’re_ genius, you are!” Harry said, clapping Draco on the back to his utter repulsion. Harry then ran off - he had a letter to write. 

-

Harry sat with Ron and Hermione on the trip back home, and they questioned him incessantly about his living arrangements and discussed how they felt he should just listen to Dumbledore and stay with the Dursleys. Harry mostly gave one worded answers in an effort to provide as little information as possible in their report back to Dumbledore. 

Fred and George came in about halfway through the journey, and Ron and Hermione immediately ceased all talk of his living arrangements. It seemed they knew Fred and George weren’t going to stand for the nonsense.

When they reached King’s Cross, Hermione stubbornly pulled him aside. “Harry, I _really_ don’t think you should live with Sirius Black. You didn’t see him when it was just Ron and I in the Shack - he’s delusional! Dumbledore’s right - the Dursleys are where you’re safest and you should listen to him! He knows best, Harry!”

Harry shrugged her hand off his arm, and pat her shoulder placatingly, “Don’t worry Hermione, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve really got to run though, Sirius and Remus are here to pick me up. See you next term!” And he walked off, leaving her gaping at him indignantly.

It was… nice, having family to pick him up from King’s Cross for once. He saw Molly Weasley - one of many, really - looking decidedly squirmish about Sirius Black being on Platform 9¾. Mrs Weasley almost shrieked in fear when Fred and George ran over to help Harry with his luggage. The twins grinned at Sirius and Remus, saluting jauntily.

“Good day, good sirs -” 

“We deliver to you your package -”

“Oi! Who you calling a package?” Harry said. They ignored his interruption and spoke over him.

“In the most pristine condition -”

“Disregarding a couple of smudges -”

“Maybe a missing eyebrow but -”

Remus cleared his throat, failing to surpress a smile, “Yes, thank you boys. Perhaps - if your mother allows - we’ll see you over the summer.”

Fred, George and Harry grinned at each other, and said their goodbyes as the twins walked back to their mother’s clutches and Harry off into his new life.

-

In the end, after a secret session of interrogation and threats that Harry was _NOT_ to know about, Harry was now the highly disgusted owner of Number 4, Privet Drive. 

The Dursleys had been kicked out, and the house was emptied of all their belongings. Harry stood in the hallway, grimacing at the house. He didn’t like being back here, especially when it still looked like this. He turned to face Remus and Sirius, who looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Let’s trash the place. I want the entire place renovated.”

So with the help of their individual needs to destroy something, the inside of the house was soon completely changed. Harry took great pleasure in setting fire to the cupboard under the stairs. However, he’d requested they leave the garden alone, because _he’d_ been the one to plant all the flowers, to water the grass, to tend the trees and the hedge. No matter that Petunia had been the one telling him what to do - the garden was _his_. He spent so much time there; the tree in the corner had been his hiding place, the flower bed under the window too. The garden was his suffering and his pride.

Once they’d emptied the house, it looked much better. With simply walls and floor left, it looked different, but the layout was still the same. So with his guardians’ help, they changed everything. The stairs were no longer in front of the front door (some magical assistance later and they were in the back of the old kitchen, facing the garden), and what had been the living room and kitchen had been merged into one room. The wall that separated the once hallway and living room had also been taken down. The bedrooms upstairs had all been merged into one huge landing. 

Looking at the completely different house, Harry looked to his sweaty and grimy guardians. He smiled.


	32. Star Motors: Part 1

Over the next few weeks, they worked to get the house and business all proper. Sirius had actually purchased a garage in Leeds that he’d intended to be their home. Star Motors seemed like a humble little thing along Bodmin Road in Leeds, with the outward capacity of holding three cars, and a side building for administration. But on the inside, the use of a simple expansion charm meant that in the backroom of the administration building, a large apartment sat, hidden from the muggle world.

“I’m thinking,” Sirius said slowly, amongst the hustle and bustle as movers and builders and construction workers and carpenters went about setting up the place, “instead of you having a room here, why don’t you have you own little wing? We’ll put a door here-” he gestured to a piece of blank wall in the apartment, “- and connect that door to - I don’t know - the front door of Privet Drive? You can use Privet Drive as your room if you will.”

Harry cocked his head, thinking. “That actually sounds like a good idea. I’ll be able to spend time in within the wards and still live within the garage. But what if someone comes knocking on the door to Privet Drive?”

Sirius stroked his beard, “My old house - Grimmauld Place - is under a Fidelius charm. I’m the Secret-Keeper. You could be the Secret-Keeper of Privet Drive. Grimmauld Place is also hidden. If we cast the spell on Privet Drive, it should disappear, and only appear when you wish it to.”

Harry agreed, so the whole operation began. By the first week of July, the newfound family had settled comfortably into their home. Harry fashioned Privet Drive in the likeness of Gryffindor Tower; the rich cherrywood floors were covered in rich burgundy carpets from Arabia that Sirius had specially imported and the walls were painted white. The ground floor was used as a makeshift lab, study room, library and entertainment centre, with Muggle toys like gaming consoles and even retro arcade games lying about the place and shelves containing measures of books. A large ornate desk was set up in one corner of the room, with a desktop computer atop it. It was a recent Muggle invention that was all the rage these days. Harry used the upstairs landing as his bedroom, with wide open space and a huge comfy bed that he’d gotten from the Potter vaults in Gringotts. He’d actually constructed two rooms within the landing - a simple bathroom and a walk-in wardrobe (upon Blaise, Pansy and Draco’s insistence).

The apartment in Leeds was starkly different from Harry’s ‘wing’. It was small and cozy, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a combined kitchen and dining room, and a living room with a television. The walls were a pleasantly warm beige, and the floors were rosewood. It seemed Remus was the main style influencer in their apartment - Sirius happy to give Remus anything he wanted.

The ‘front door’ of the apartment led to the backroom of the administration building. A nifty notice-me-not charm kept their workers away from the door with a sign that said “bathroom”.

The garage was a typical garage, except magically expanded. Sirius had insisted on the administration building having a bar and cafe though.

-

“Mrs Tan, I’m sorry but we’re a garage, not a home-repair service.”

“But Mr Lupin -”

Remus sighed internally as Mrs Tan launched into her fifth explanation of what she needed. He sat at the counter in their reasonably sized garage. Well, reasonably sized by Sirius’ standards. Naturally, the garages had a few magical modifications. Sirius set aside garage number one - which was closest to the administration building - for magical vehicles. The other two were magically expanded to hold three Muggle cars each. A handy Muggle-repelling ward prevented any Muggles from investigating the suspiciously popular garage. And a few Confundus charms on the Muggle customers hurt nobody.

Once Star Motors had officially started shop, Sirius - the cunning idiot - had then proceeded to forcibly hire Remus, shove all the work at him, and pay him an outrageously high salary. Sirius had then handed Remus a list of Muggleborns and Werewolves that had been out of work and let him at it. So now they had a very loyal - and grateful - set of staff working on legal (and sometimes illegal) machinery.

Remus smiled and nodded at Mrs Tan, who huffed and continued her spiel. Harry and Sirius were tinkering with the cars in one of the garages, he couldn’t be sure which. He was considering directing Mrs Tan to one of them when the side-door to the admin building burst open and Sirius loped in gracefully, Harry tagging along. 

It was nearing the end of August of 1994. Sirius was still suffering the effects of Azkaban, though he’d bulked up considerably after a two months of eating properly. Harry too had seemed less skinny, and he seemed to be going through that stage of puberty where he was less in control of his body. He’d grown taller too and work in the garage had somehow grown him some muscle. 

“Mrs Tan! How may we be of service?” Sirius greeted loudly. Mrs Tan simpered at him, and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“An oven? Modification? Why, we’d be happy to!”

Remus whipped his head around at Sirius and narrowed his eyes. Sirius, predictably, ignored him. Remus smirked, “All right then - Mrs Tan, since Mr Black has approved, I’m sure he can also take in your errant coffee-maker, washing machine, toaster, and even your radio!”

Sirius’ smile faltered, but grinned again as Mrs Tan thanked him. Harry chuckled and made his way over to Remus. “We’ve just finished Mr Saunders’ station wagon, so he can come down and pick it up today.”

Remus nodded and then used a tissue to wipe away the oil stains on Harry’s face. Harry groaned but let Remus fuss over him anyway. 

Remus began innocently, “So… that girl… Caroline - visited the garage again today. She was asking after you.”

Harry groaned even louder, and flopped his head onto the countertop. Remus eyed him carefully. Harry finally sighed, “I know she’s pretty! I just… I’m not ready?”

Remus rearranged his paperwork, “Harry, you don’t have to start - uh - dating yet. You’re still young - just shy of fourteen. I’d personally prefer if you didn’t start dating until you were at least 16, but it’s up to you of course.”

Harry smiled nervously at him, “Um - thanks Moony. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“In the meantime - while Sirius tries to worm his way out of what he’s committed to - perhaps you could help me with all this paperwork.”

Harry jumped up suddenly, “Actually! Yeah - uh - we got a Muggle bike... um - in number two, so yeah…”

Remus chuckled as Harry ran away from his desk and towards the garages. Harry ignored Sirius when Sirius tried to use him as his getaway excuse. That redeemed him somewhat in Remus’ books.

Celia peeped at him from her counter, “Hey boss? Uh - the bathroom door in the back won’t open...”

Remus sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's Wing aka Privet Drive:  
> 
> 
> Apartment in Leeds:  
> 
> 
> Star Motors Logo:  
> 
> 
> Bird's Eye View of Star Motors:  
> 
> 
> The Administration Building:  
> 
> 
> The Garage:  
> 


	33. Star Motors: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So I got some comments on Chapter 32 that the images couldn't be seen and I think I've fixed it?? Let me know if you still can't seem them!
> 
> also a note that WolfStar starts in this chapter. If you don't particularly like the ship, please don't tell me about it because idrc. this fic has always been self-indulgent and i like wolfstar hence TREAT YOSELF.
> 
> thank you for reading my brain vomit!

“So, Moony, how’s my baby doing?”

Remus deadpanned, “Fine, thank you.”

Sirius chuckled and nuzzled into Remus’ neck, “Good to know - but I meant the garage.”

Remus sighed in contentment as Sirius pressed a kiss to his neck, “Do you _really_ want to know?”

“Of course!” Sirius cried, “What do you think I pay you for?”

Remus ignored him, “Profits are up by 15% - I’ve got a couple of enquiries from some car dealers, and one from a representative of Volkswagen. I managed to hire a few more staff. I hired a couple more werewolves and Muggleborns even though we don’t really need them - they’d been out of a job a long time - I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Sirius replied without pause. “That vile Umbridge woman is still making things difficult isn’t she?”

Remus answered by growling.

“I... _actually_ came over to ask you something.” Sirius shifted uneasily, causing Remus to tense.

“What is it?”

“I think... I think I’d like to renovate Grimmauld.”

“Oh,” Remus said in relief, “All right, you can call in a couple of curse-breakers - they’ll strip down the place. And then I’ll contact a friend from France, his name’s Toulour. He’s a wizarding interior designer.”

Sirius let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding in, “Thanks Moony. You’re the best. Have you seen Harry today by the way? He went off to help Niall with a Muggle Rover earlier, and I haven’t seen him after.”

“Oh, he went back to the apartment. The twins sent him a letter I think.”

Harry was in fact in his Wing at Privet Drive. He was out in the garden, sitting on the stone bench and reading the letter. Hedwig perched on his shoulder and nipped at his hair as he read. They’d sent their letter along with Ron’s, and their owl, Errol, was cooling off in the small owlery Harry had constructed in the garden shed.

_ Dearest Harold,  _ it read,  _ if you didn’t already know, the Quidditch World Cup is happening soon! Exciting innit? Ron’s probably wrote to you about it too, but we’re here to tell you that we’re going! Dad’s got us tickets, courtesy of the Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games! Send Errol back - perhaps with Hedwig. You know, in case he passes out or something - to let us know if you’re going or not. We’d like to see you after so long, we do miss you terribly! Oh yeah, Bill and Charlie will be there too! You’ll finally get to meet them! _

“Excellent!” Harry whispered. He opened Ron’s message, which roughly described his summer so far, as well as the notif about the World Cup. He folded them all back and went back into the house, placing them in his desk drawer, where Harry kept all his other letters from his friends. He’d gotten a couple from Luna and Ginny, and he’d gotten horribly long pages of reserach from Hermione about some time magic thing. It was interesting of course, but Hermione tended to include a lot of irrelevant information in her research, and with the time he spent at the garage, he didn’t exactly have time to read the whole lot. 

The rest of the Silver Circle wrote him regularly as well. In fact, Draco wrote him almost everyday. And according to Pansy and George: “ _ Fred and Blaise write each other more than you and Draco do. _ ” He avoided thinking about the implications of that.

Sirius had shared some late night stories with Harry, and Harry found out that Frank and Alice Longbottom (who would have been his guardians had Sirius and Remus been... unavailable) were renowned Aurors. They’d lost their minds to the Cruciatus Curse. It made Harry feel sick inside, and he now knew why Neville lived with his grandmother. He started writing Neville, who was surprisingly open, witty and hilarious in his writings - a huge difference from his bumbling, shy, self in person. Neville liked to send him funny facts about certain plants, such as one particular  _ Mimbulus Mimbletonia _ which would explode in pus when touched. It sounded like great prank material. He wondered if Fred and George had any ideas about that.

“Master Harry! Master Sirius be looking for yous!”

Harry turned around to find their house-elf, Willow staring up at him.

“All right, thank you Willow. Where is he?”

“Master Sirius be in da administration!” She squeaked as she followed after him. Harry nodded, “How’s dinner coming along?”

Willow clapped her hands in excitement and Harry smiled, “It be good, Master Harry! Willow be cooking roast! Master Remus’ favourite!”

“I’m sure he’ll love it, Willow.”

“Of course he will Master Harry! Yous is bein silly!” She squeaked, and promptly popped into the kitchen where she had pots and pans on the stove and where delicious aromas wafted over to Harry as he walked past.

Harry left her to it and made his way into the administration building. Remus was behind the counter as usual, and his Godfather was lounging at the bar, being chatted up by one of the customers.

“Sirius? Willow said you were looking for me.”

Sirius completely ignored the lady who’d put a hand on his arm, throwing himself theatrically at Harry.

“Harry! Oh my favourite godson! How I’ve missed you today! Where have you been?”

The lady huffed and stormed out. She probably only came in to flirt with Sirius then. Luckily, Remus hadn’t seen it. Harry rolled his eyes, “I’ve been in my room. Niall and I finished the Rover and we were bored. He took his break. I went home.”

Sirius grinned, “Well guess what? Fudge just sent me three tickets to the Quidditch World Cup!”

Harry grinned back, his green eyes sparkling, “Brilliant! The Weasleys are going, and so are Draco and Blaise! That was the letter I was reading.”

“Are you going to leave your poor godfathers alone for the sake of friendship?” Sirius pouted exaggeratedly.

“Course not! I’ll leave you with Mr Weasley!”

Sirius laughed and ruffled Harry’s hair. “Go on - go tell your mates we’ll be coming. Oh! Before I forget, I’m renovating Grimmauld. Any input?”

Harry thought for a moment, knowing how uncomfortable a topic his childhood home was for Sirius.

“Um, the house-elf, Kreacher…”

“Yeah?”

“Ask him - _nicely_ \- don’t give me that look I know you hate him - if he’d like to move to another estate? Or just what he wants. And let him have it.”

“Anything for my favourite godson.”

“I’m your _only_ godson! Only my dad was nuts enough to trust you with a child.”

“Oi!”


	34. The Quidditch World Cup

Sirius, Remus and Harry arrived two hours before the World Cup. They hadn’t brought a tent because Sirius didn’t feel comfortable sleeping near unknown witches and wizards - also because there were his nightmares to consider. Harry understood, but he felt like he’d be missing out on the excitement in the proceeding days.

“Did Fred and George say where they’d be?” Sirius asked, ignoring the fearful stares and murmurs as they walked.

Sirius had been found innocent for close to three months, but he still inspired fear and distrust in the Wizarding community. Even now, Harry could see some Brits ushering their children away.

“Yeah - come on, this way.”

The three of them made their way to the Weasleys’ tents. Hermione had been invited over the summer to stay, and she sat with Mr Weasley now, teaching him how to light a match.

When the twins saw them, they launched at Harry with a cry of, “HAROLD!”

He laughed as the twins tumbled them to the ground. They disentangled themselves from each other and Ron and Hermione came over to greet him.

“Hey Harry. Hi Professor Lupin - uh hello Mr Black,” said Ron awkwardly. Sirius smiled disarmingly and Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Sirius ignored it and greeted them with a friendly, “Hello!” and Remus smiled at his old students.

Harry snorted from George’s hold around his neck, “Remus isn’t a Professor anymore Ron, he quit remember?”

“How’s the - oof - garage - that’s my _ear,_ George - holding up -” Fred wheezed as Harry’s elbow hit his stomach.

“It’s going well!” Sirius answered jovially. They made a strange sight - two adults and two teenagers staring down at a tangle of limbs and orange and black on the grass.

“That’s because Remus manages the garage - it’s not like _you_ do anything Sirius,” Harry snarked from George’s headlock.

“I’ll have you know, young Harold, that I fix people’s cars on a daily basis,” Sirius stuck his nose in the air as Harry tried to escape George’s hold, “I even modified that toaster Mrs Tan was asking for.”

Harry finally popped his head out of George’s grasp, breathing heavily, “What? And you didn’t tell me? Oh look, Moony’s gonna kill you -”

True enough, Remus was looking at Sirius with one brow lifted. Sirius cleared his throat and held his hands up placatingly.

“It just toasts everything to perfection -”

“Did I hear something about modifying Muggle nectology?”

Remus winced as Arthur Weasley came up to their crew, eyes on Sirius and side-stepping the mess on the ground.

Sirius grinned innocently, “Hello, Arthur, long time no see - nope - nothing about Muggle technology. Just simple magical repair work! No misuse of anything going on here.”

Sirius rocked on the balls of his feet and Harry and the twins snickered. Remus sighed and looked to the heavens, praying for strength. Hermione stared at Sirius disapprovingly and was about to comment when Mr Weasley leaned in conspiratorially to Sirius, “Listen - I used to have a Ford Anglia, though it’s disappeared into the Forbidden Forest by now if what Ron says is true. However, I hear Star Motors has a magical vehicle lot…”

Sirius, Remus and Mr Weasley sat by the small fire Hermione had started, discussing all things Muggle and Magical. Harry could tell Sirius had found a friend in the Muggle-loving Mr Weasley. Hermione’s mouth fell open in indignation at such a blatant disregard for Ministry Laws - and by the Head of the Department himself!

Luckily, she seemed to realise negative opinions wouldn’t be appreciated in present company and said nothing, though her face was set in a squished sort of expression, just like her cat Crookshanks. Speaking of…

“Hey Hermione, where’s Crookshanks?”

“He’s at the Burrow with Mrs Weasley.” She replied happily. Ron snorted, “Yeah, and he’s a right pain in the -”

“Harry!” Harry turned to see Ginny Weasley and hugged her in greeting. He was quite fond of her. “Come meet Bill and Charlie!” Ginny exclaimed, pulling him along. She pulled him towards the other ginger men sitting by the fire. Percy had graduated from Hogwarts in June, and was now working in the Ministry in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Percy extended a hand and nodded at Harry pompously, “Ah! Harry, good to see you. I understand Minister Fudge himself invited you?”

Yep, there it was. He couldn’t blame Percy for the interest and so Harry nodded politely and shook his hand, “Yes, he was kind enough to extend an invitation to my family.” Harry then turned to the other men.

“Bill! This is Harry Potter - Harry, this is my eldest brother Bill,” Ginny introduced. Bill stuck out a hand and Harry took it.

Bill shot Harry a crooked smile and Harry felt himself go weak at the knees. Bill was dressed head-to-toe in dragon leather. His long, red hair was tied in a low ponytail, with a few errant wisps framing his handsome face. He had a dragon tooth earring in one ear and Harry wondered how he’d gotten away with it, especially with Mrs Weasley for a mother. Harry didn’t seem to ralise he was still holding Bill's hand, but Bill didn’t seem to mind. Harry heard the twins snickering in the background and blushed, letting go of Bill’s hand quickly.

“Hello Harry, it’s great to finally meet you,” Bill smiled, “My name’s William, but everybody calls me Bill.”

“Yeah - uh - that lot have told me all about you. You’re _really_ cool,” Harry blurted. Fred and George were still snickering behind him - damn them - and even Ginny was smirking.

Bill chuckled deeply - _holy hell_ \- and shook his head, “Well, at least it’s all good. You never know with the twins. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Charlie - ah! Here he comes.”

Bill waved Charlie over, and - wow. Harry’s face would be permanently red at this rate. Charlie sauntered over looking like a great, stocky lumberjack. He lacked a beard, but he had a wicked burn across his bared forearm, and his eyes glittered like fire. Charlie grinned like a cat, and Harry was _so_ not telling Blaise about any of these... feelings. But Blaise had been calling it since they'd first become friends, the intuitive bugger. Harry shook Charlie’s hand.

“Nice tuh meet ya, mah name’s Charlie,” the Dragon-Keeper said, his accent hard to place. “Different circumstances from first year eh?” Harry laughed, remembering how he and Ron had smuggled Norbert off to Charlie. Charlie grinned, then looked at Harry seriously, “Me and Bill - we really wantuh thank ya for helping Ginny. She’s much happier now, and we’re real proud o’ her.”

Harry waved it off, “I’m glad I could help… you guys kind of helped me too, actually. The twins learned a lot from you, and I appreciate it.”

Bill and Charlie didn’t press the issue, which made Harry like them even more. They were decent. Harry and the twins went off on their own for a bit, with the pretense of finding Oliver Wood, who’d also graduated in June. They did see him of course, but Oliver was with his own group of friends, so they said a jolly hello, left him to it and went in search of the Blaise and Draco. Harry took the chance to ask the twins about their joke shop plans.

“How’s the joke shop coming along?”

Fred sighed wearily, “Mum keeps finding our products and throwing them out. Our stocks are depleting faster than we can make them - and it’s not like we’re making money of it. Start-up is important y’know?”

Harry thought for a bit, “Tell you what, have you got any pranks on you now?”

They nodded, pushing past the hordes of green-clad wizards and witches. When they finally had some space to move, Harry stopped and opened his haversack.

“Here - put them in my bag, I’ll keep them safe for you at home. You should send the rest when you make them so you won’t have to worry about your mum finding out.”

“Thanks Harold!” they chimed brightly, and spent the next few minutes digging out their various sweets and merchandise.

“What are those?” Harry pointed to the brightly coloured candy wrappers. George grinned, “Ton-Tongue Toffees. We wanted to test them out on that horrid cousin of yours, but there’s no need anymore is there?”

“What do they do?” Harry asked anyway, putting them carefully in his haversack.

“They make your tongue swell and grow longer, like a python! It’s great fun!”

“That’s a bit dangerous isn’t it?”

“Aye. Which is why we wanted to test it out on Dudders,” Fred smirked uncaringly, dumping some fake wands into Harry’s bag. Harry couldn’t help but grin back.

“Oi, Freddie! Harry! Over there. See the white tent?”

“The one with the white peacocks?”

“Yeah and the white roses. Geez, Draco wasn’t kidding when he said he was rich.”

Harry agreed. He spotted a head of nearly white hair, accompanied by Blaise’s signature close-shave. He pointed, “There they are. C’mon.”

Fred ran ahead, to Harry and George’s amusement, and the lanky ginger pounced on Blaise’s back, startling a cry out of the notoriously silent pureblood son of Vicenza Zabini. And then Blaise’s distinct laughter rang through the field.

Draco made a disgusted face at Blaise’ and Fred’s raucous display, though Harry could see he was amused by the upturn of his lips. Draco walked away from his tent, delving into the hype of the stalls and markets that had been set up. It was teeming with foreigners from all over the world. Harry and the others caught up to Draco, and the Malfoy finally let loose. There was no one to see him in this crowd. Draco accepted George messing up his hair and pouted until Harry laughed and put it back in place.

“How’s your summer been, Harry? George?”

George winked, “As if you don’t already know. You two catch-up. Meanwhile I’ll go get some butterbeers.”

Harry watched in bemusement as George left him with Draco, dragging Fred and Blaise with him. Sneaky git. Draco cleared his throat, “My cousin treating you all right?”

“Of course! Best summer _ever!”_

Draco looked him up and down, and Harry sized him up as well. They hadn’t seen each other since Harry’s birthday back in July when his friends had all come down to Leeds to celebrate. Draco had grown even taller in the month it’d been, and his hair was longer. He no longer kept it in that slicked back horror; rather, he styled it so that his long fringe hung in his eyes. He looked, Harry thought, like one of the Backstreet Boys, with the ‘M’ of his fringe being the defining factor. He kind of looked like a younger, blonder, pointier Sirius actually. Harry supposed that came from the Black family genes.

Draco appraised Harry and was surprised at the almost complete change in his friend. He still wore those god-awful spectacles, but had bulked up, probably from the nutritious and constant feeding this summer. And - were those muscles? Those hadn’t been there in July. Harry’s shoulders were broader, and he looked a little less like he might break into pieces. But what changed the most was his whole… _aura_. Harry was practically glowing. He had always come back from summer beaten down and barely alive. This summer, he was radiant, healthy and all-around happy. It was a sight to behold.

“Is Pansy here? What about Greg and Vince?”

“Pansy’s mother wouldn’t allow her to come, for ‘lack of proper, lady-like decorum’,” Draco said, imitating Mrs Parkinson’s high pitched voice. Harry scrunched his nose up, “What’s decorum got to do with Quidditch?”

Draco sighed and shook his head, “Never mind Potter, I’ll leave Pansy to explain the intricacies of pureblood society to you. Vince and Greg are here, but I haven’t seen them. It’s likely they’re in the lower terraces, so we might only see them tomorrow.”

They chatted about nothing in particular, and Draco bought Harry a pair of omniculars. Fred, George and Blaise rejoined them a while later. Harry spotted Luna and her father, who were supporting Bulgaria and sporting long feathers in their hair. He waved cheerfully at Luna, who waved back.

“Who are you rooting for, Harry?” Blaise asked. Harry shrugged, “I don’t really follow the World Cup -”

“ _What_?” Fred and George exclaimed, foam moustaches present and accounted for.

“I don’t really know much about the Wizarding world - not like you lot. I didn’t grow up with it remember? And it’s not like Sirius and Remus teach me all sorts of things that may not be immediately relevant,” Harry said defensively.

Draco rolled his eyes, “We’re going to have to educate you on this. I can’t believe it - Gryffindor’s star seeker doesn’t know a thing about Quidditch outside Hogwarts.”

Harry huffed and folded his arms across his chest. Just then, Sirius’ voice came calling.

“Harry! Harry! It’s almost time!”

Sirius spotted their motley crew and made his way over, Remus at his side. Sirius appraised Draco and Blaise, as if expecting something, twisting the signet ring on his middle finger. Blaise and Draco spotted the signet ring and bowed immediately, fists at their sides, “Lord Black.”

Harry looked at his friends in bewilderment, and his eyebrows drifted further up his forehead when Sirius inclined his head regally, “Heir Malfoy, Heir Zabini. Well met.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Mr Malfoy, Mr Zabini, it’s wonderful to see you again.” Draco and Blaise relaxed and said hello to Remus.

“Come on boys, the game’s about to start. We best head to our seats.” Sirius said, checking his watch. He looped Remus’ arm with his and they headed towards the stadium. The boys followed after, though Harry kept shooting looks at Blaise and Draco.

“In public, nobility follows the old customs,” Draco explained, guiding Harry through the throng of people. “Sirius is the elder, and he is a Lord. We are younger and heirs - so we do the whole bowing thing.”

The lot of them climbed up the stairs to the terraces. Blaise’s mother had had also managed to get a Top Box ticket for Blaise, so they would all be sitting together. Draco and Blaise hung back to wait for Lord and Lady Malfoy.

“Where’d you go mate?” Ron asked anxiously as Harry entered the Top Box, “We were looking all over for you.”

“I went off with Fred and George to see Oliver,” Harry said noncommittally.

“Oh yeah, isn’t he playing for Puddle - oh _great_ , look who’s sat with us too,” Ron scowled. Harry and Hermione turned to see the Malfoys enter the Top Box. Lord Malfoy sneered at Mr Weasley.

“Arthur,” Lucius said smoothly, “What did you have to sell to get tickets? Surely not your entire house?”

Mr Weasley flushed a red that almost matched his flaming hair.

“Ah! Lucius! A pleasure to see you,” Sirius cut in, smiling predatorily, “Still as slimy and poisonous as you were in school I see.”

Sirius saw Narcissa then and he smiled genuinely, ignoring Lucius, “Cissa! Darling cousin, you look splendid as ever!”

Narcissa quirked her lips upward and curtseyed lightly, “Lord Black, it’s good to see you again.” She looked away and beckoned Draco forward then, and they sat down. The Weasleys looked utterly confused at the lack of snottiness.

Lucius frowned, but said nothing, opting to sit next to his wife instead, just as Minister Fudge led the Bulgarian Minister for Magic up the steps.

The Bulgarian Minister seemed completely bored with Fudge’s stumbling attempts at conversing, but nodded politely anyway. Harry had to give Fudge some credit for actually trying. Fudge made his way through the Top Box, greeting everyone. He shook Sirius’ and Remus’ hands, smiling at Harry, the Bulgarian Minister for Magic nodding politely, if a bit disinterestedly.

“Minister Fudge, perhaps I could help?” Remus offered, “I speak Bulgarian quite fluently.”

Fudge’s shoulders sagged in relief, “Thank you Mr Lupin, if you could. The translator is late.”

Remus easily slipped into Bulgarian and began talking to the Minister, who was suddenly much more interested. Remus translated easily for Minister Fudge. Fudge waved Harry over, and despite Harry pretending not to have seen, Sirius pushed him forward to talk to the Ministers. Remus put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, like a wolf guarding its pup.

“Harry Potter, you know,” Fudge told the Bulgarian Minister, “Harry Potter. Come on, now - the Boy Who Lived? You-Know-Who? Surely you’ve heard of him…”

Remus translated and the Minister went wide-eyed, pointing at Harry’s scar, and then between him and Remus, asking a question. Remus answered affirmatively. He suddenly shook Remus’ hand and Fudge sighed.

They eventually got settled, and Ludo Bagman - the one who’d given Mr Weasley the tickets - started his commentary, and announced the arrival of the Bulgarian mascots.

“I wonder what they’ve brought,” Remus murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “Aaah!” Sirius exclaimed. “Veela!”

“What are veel- ?” Harry was about to ask, when a hundred veela glided out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women, the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen... except they weren’t human.

They kind of looked like Malfoys, actually. Their moon-bright skin and white-gold hair looked exactly like Draco’s. Then the music started, and Harry stopped thinking about anything at all.

The veela had started to dance, and Harry’s mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that he kept watching the veela, because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen. And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry’s dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive - right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea, but would it be good enough?

He could see the Weasleys - with the exception of Arthur - standing up. He ought to do it too, for a better view. Harry started to stand up, but then a hand pinched his shirt and pulled him back into his seat, “Come sit down, Harry, it’ll wear off in a bit.”

It was Sirius. Harry broke from the spell, shaking his head. He looked around. Lady Malfoy had pulled her husband back into his seat - oh. That was a bit upsetting but Lady Malfoy didn’t seem to mind. Harry noted that Blaise was strangely unaffected by the Veela, and had pulled Draco back into his seat. Remus was helping Hermione wrangle Ron back into his seat, and Bill and Charlie had sat on Fred and George respectively, though the twins were putting up a fight.

The veela stopped dancing, to everyone’s great disappointment, but then the Irish mascots came in, and Ron could be seen cramming under the seats for the gold they deposited.

-

“IRELAND WINS. KRUM CATCHES THE SNITCH BUT IRELAND WINS. I doubt anyone could have expected that!” Bagman’s voice echoed amongst the cheers.

“WE DID! WE WON THE BET!” Fred and George screamed. They scooped each other up and did a celebratory jig. The Malfoys were still sat down, dignified as ever, though Lucius seemed quite uninterested in everything. He clapped politely, as if he’d watched a performance rather than a Quidditch match. Harry caught Draco’s eye. Their gazes locked and Draco broke into an unseen smile that lit up his whole face. Narcissa and Sirius looked on, before smiling at each other and then quickly looking away.

The moment was broken by Fred and George sweeping Harry into their jig, but Harry swore he could feel Draco’s eyes on him.

Life was great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter! thanks for reading, here's a link to my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/twinsleys)


	35. Star Motors

Life was not great. Sirius, Remus and Harry had bid the Weasleys and friends goodbye, and headed home after the match. The next day’s Prophet only showed them how right they had been to leave. 

“Bloody hell!”

“Sirius!” Remus chided. They were seated at the breakfast table, and Sirius was decidedly not pleased. 

“ _Death Eaters,_ Remus! Probably Malfoy and his old crew -”

“Malfoy? What -” Harry began in a panic. 

“I’m sure Draco and Narcissa are fine, Harry.” Remus reassured. Sirius shot up, “My cousin! This is what Lucius does to her! _I’m going to hex that blonde mophead six feet under!”_

Harry ran off to his wing, and frantically wrote a letter to Draco and Blaise, and one to the Weasleys. He sent the Weasleys’ letter off with Sirius’ falcon, Strudel, who could fly faster. The Weasleys lived in Devon, which was a little further than Wiltshire where the Malfoy’s lived. He sent Hedwig off with Draco’s letter. He should get replies within an hour. Harry was about to send Luna’s letter off with Remus’ barn owl when a pigeon suddenly landed on his shoulder, stretching out its leg. Harry was surprised, but took the letter anyway. It was from Luna, telling him not to worry about her because she was unharmed. Harry smiled in relief - Luna always seemed to know. Harry wrote back to Luna, sending her pigeon back to her, and then slowly returned to the apartment. Walking through the front door of Privet Drive, he ended up back in the apartment in Leeds. He slumped in his chair, and Remus held his face gently, “I’m sure they’re fine. Eat your eggs.”

Harry smiled and ate, nervous about the impending replies. The trio sat there stewing in anxiety, until Willow popped in. “Masters, yous birds be in the garden!” Harry raced for Privet Drive, Sirius and Remus following. Harry quickly untied the letter and read aloud, “Dear H, Mother and I are in perfect condition. Father’s got a splitting headache though. Serves him right. We left once it started and apparated home. Blaise came with us, and he’s at home now. Hold on, Mother wants to say something.”

Sirius furrowed his brows. “The attack last night was a result of drunken stupidity. The Dark Mark, however, was not. I think it’s time you spoke with Andy. With love, Heir and Lady Malfoy.”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, but before Harry could ask, Hedwig swooped in with a bunch of letters. Harry quickly scanned through the letters, “Fred and George say the Weasleys are fine, Hermione is fine too. The elder boys helped out, got a bit injured, but nothing they can’t heal. Ron’s in trouble though. Apparently, Mr Crouch’s house elf used his wand to cast the Dark Mark.”

Remus frowned, “Crouch’s _house elf?”_ Sirius shrugged.

“What are Death Eaters?” Harry asked, “And what’s the Dark Mark? And what do the Malfoys have to do with it?”

Sirius folded his arms across his chest, shifting his weight, “Death Eaters are Voldemort’s followers. The Dark Mark is Voldemort’s symbol - he and his followers left it wherever they killed... It was horrible.” Sirius quieted and he looked away. Remus grasped Sirius’ hand before he spoke, “The Malfoys used to be one of Voldemort’s strongest supporters. When he was arrested and trialed, Lucius claimed he was under Imperius.”

“What’s Imperius?”

“It’s an Unforgivable curse. One of three, actually. The Imperius is used to control people - take away their will and take over their mind.” Remus shifted in discomfort. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you this -”

“No - I want to know, Remus. Tell me,” Harry said. Remus regarded him for a moment, before looking at Sirius in question. Sirius nodded and smiled tiredly, before getting up and kissing Remus’ forehead softly. He placed another on Harry’s head, then wandered off back to the garage. The duo watched him until he was out of sight. Remus turned to Harry again, “He doesn’t like thinking about it. There’s a reason they’re Unforgivable Harry.”

“What -” Harry swallowed, “What are the other two?”

“The one I’m sure you’re most familiar with is the Killing Curse. I don’t need to explain, do I?” Harry shook his head. “The last is quite possibly the worst of all. The Torture Curse. It causes excruciating pain... You can go mad from it.” Remus sighed, thoughts far away, “People _have_ gone mad from it. Not even the best could have withstood it.”

“Neville’s parents,” Harry guessed, with sorrow in his heart.

“Yes.”

“Who did it? Was it Voldemort?”

“No,” Remus said, “His right-hand. Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“Bellatrix - Hang on, isn’t that Sirius’ cousin? Draco’s aunt?” Harry said in alarm. Remus nodded, and Harry’s eyebrows raised, “What did they do to her?”

“She was caught, put on trial with her husband Rodolphus and Barty Crouch Junior, and they were all sentenced to life in Azkaban.”

“Barty Crouch _Junior_?” Harry exclaimed in surprise. The story got more and more interesting. 

“Yes. Son of the man with the house-elf that got in trouble. It caused quite a bit of drama. Barty Crouch Senior used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you see. He presided over his own son’s trial. That’s why he was shifted to International Magical Corporation - Head of the DMLE and didn’t notice his son was a Death Eater?” Remus shook his head. “He was a shoo-in for Minister a the time too if I remember.”

They were silent as they walked back to Star Motors. Remus waved Harry off, “Go on to the garage then, I suspect Niall still ‘needs help’ with the Muggle bike.”

Harry blushed and speedily went off, leaving Remus laughing into his tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hola amigos i return w another filler chapter HYUH


	36. The Garage

“Hey Padfoot?”

“YEAH?”

“What’s happening at Hogwarts this year?”

“WHAT?”

“WHAT’S HAPPENING AT HOGWARTS THIS YEAR?”

“OH! TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT. ASK MOONY.”

“What on earth are the two of you yelling about?” Remus asked. They were in the Muggle garage, and Sirius was firing away at the underside of someone’s car. Harry sat atop the work desk, fiddling with some sort of metal thing in his hands. He didn’t stop even when he looked at Remus, and Remus swore if Harry lost a finger -

“Moony! What’s the Triwizard Tournament?”

Remus groaned, “Sirius! You weren’t supposed to tell!”

Sirius stopped blasting his flamethrower and slid out from under the car, grinning sheepishly, “Harry caught me off guard?”

Remus grinned wolfishly, flicking his wand, and Sirius yelped as he went rolling across the room. Harry laughed brightly and Remus sat with him, wiping motor oil off his cheeks. 

“How did you even know something was happening? Nothing’s been said in the papers yet.”

“Weasleys and Draco. How do you know about it?”

“Fudge has taken to hiring me for translation purposes. The Bulgarian Minister seems to like me quite a bit.”

Metal clanged and Sirius cursed. Remus smirked. 

“The triwizard tournament started some few hundred years ago. It’s a friendly competition between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Have you heard of those schools?”

Harry shook his head, “I didn’t know there were other Wizarding schools. I never thought about it.”

“There’s hundreds around the world - you should go read up more on them; I’m sure there’s a few books about it in your massive library,” he teased. “Back to the tournament - each school selects one representative, and three champions would compete in three magical tasks. They take turns hosting once every five years. Well - until they discontinued the tournament.”

“Why did they discontinue it?” Harry asked curiously. Remus grimaced, “Death toll got too high.”

“Death toll?!”

“Yes. I don’t even understand why they brought it back… this… year…” Remus looked at Harry strangely.

“What? Have I got something on my face?”

“No, no, just… Harry, promise me you won’t try to enter? And promise me you’ll be safe?” Remus asked anxiously, gripping Harry by the arms suddenly.

“Wha- Why would I enter? Death toll, Moony! I want to live thank you very much!”

Remus nodded tensely, but called out to Sirius. “Sirius? Aren’t you and Andromeda meeting today?”

“OH YEAH!” 

Sirius appeared out of nowhere and dragged Harry off to the apartment, “Come on Harold, we’re going shopping today!”

Harry groaned, “I already have enough clothes! I have a bloody walk-in closet for Godric’s sake! Why does Aunt Andromeda always want to go shopping?”

-

The Blacks apparated into Diagon Alley. As Harry regained his balance, a terrifying man approached them and grunted menacingly. Harry back pedalled immediately but Sirius simply laughed, “Come off it Nymphadora. I know it's you.”

The gruff man suddenly shrank into a slender woman, a few years older than Harry, with bright pink hair and warm brown eyes. She grinned at Sirius and then waved cheekily at Harry. He stuck his tongue out playfully at her and she laughed, “Gave Harry a right scare though, didn’t I? Wotcher Uncle Sirius, Cousin.” 

An older woman with jet black hair and stormy grey eyes approached. She had high cheekbones but soft angles and she was wearing traditional wizarding robes. Harry hugged her, and she pushed him back to look at him.

“Harry, you’re looking more and more handsome every time I see you!” she said warmly. Harry laughed. 

“You said that last week!”

“But it’s true! Sirius, you should really shave that beard of yours.” She said disapprovingly. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Andy - lovely to see you - beautiful as ever. And - sorry, but the beard stays. Remus rather likes it.”

Tonks huffed and Harry smiled. Sirius offered an arm to Andromeda. “Where are you taking us first, cousin?”

“Madam Malkin's. Harry needs robes. So do you in fact. And Dora’s nice ones have gotten all dirty…”

Tonks threw her arm over Harry's shoulder and dragged him after her mother. They entered Madam Malkin’s, where she proceeded to stab and pin all three of them, generating yelps of indignation and pain. Andromeda sat serenely nearby, ignoring their yelps in favour of a magazine. 

Their robes would take a while to be put together, so they headed off to Gladrags for some casual wizarding wear. Andromeda had a field day buying clothes for Harry, and he was exhausted by the time they'd finished. 

The Blacks then ventured out into Muggle London. They stopped for lunch at a cosy little cafe and then apparated back to Diagon Alley to pick up their robes. While Sirius and Andromeda were off doing Merlin knows what at the counter of Florean Fortescue’s, Harry chatted with Tonks over his chocolate ice cream. 

“How do you become an Auror?”

“Uh - well - first you've got to do well for OWLs. Especially in Potions, Defence, Charms and Transfig. Because you've got to get into the NEWT level classes in sixth and seventh year, see?” Tonks explained and Harry nodded. “So then you've got to get top scores for NEWTs for those subjects - so usually E or O. Then you go through the training programme and they’ll make you go through different tests. Then you intern under a more experienced Auror for a year, and then boom! You're an Auror!”

Harry had honestly never thought about his future. He didn’t even know how Hogwarts _worked_. He supposed now was a good time to ask.

“So we take our OWLs at fifth year? Is it a standardised test or something?”

Tonks nodded, “Yup. It’s exams that will determine - uh - your future, I guess? Depending on how well you do and on the grades needed to take NEWTs for that subject, that’s how you get your subjects for sixth and seventh year.”

That was a bit daunting. Harry hadn’t even given much thought to what he would be doing in the future. He’d probably still run the garage, honestly speaking.

“You said something about getting Es or Os…”

“Yeah. You were raised by Muggles yeah? It’s kind of like the Muggle grading system. Except instead of the useless letters that don’t mean anything - here -” she transfigured the napkin into a piece of parchment and transfigured her spoon into a pen - which surprised Harry. She caught his look and nodded, “Yeah, my dad’s Muggleborn - best of both worlds being a half-blood innit?” Harry agreed heartily.

“Anyway, back to the grades. O is the highest grade you can obtain.” She wrote ‘O - Outstanding’ on the parchment.  “Then you’ve got E - Exceeding Expectations, A - Acceptable, P - Poor, D - Dreadful and lastly T - Troll.”

“That… makes a lot of sense actually.” Harry observed. “Thanks for explaining. But getting back to your Auror training - which part are you at now?”

Tonks reached into her pocket, beaming, “I'm interning under Mad-Eye Moody! Great innit?”

“Who's that?” She pulled outa small photo album and flipped to the end. She shoved the picture under Harry’s nose and he went a bit cross-eyed trying to look at it. When it came into focus -

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“His nose is practically missing - how does he even breathe?” Harry asked, snickering at the picture. It was a still picture, and in it, Tonks was in front of Moody and cheesing at the camera, brandishing a thumbs-up. Moody was just behind her, looking grouchy but eyeing the camera lens all the same.

“I don’t know but he's like - the best Auror of all time. He put away a whole lot of You-Know-Who's people - got a lot of enemies he does. He’s a bit paranoid but that's expected given this line of work.”

Harry whistled, looking at Moody’s strange blue eye. “You’ll have to introduce us one day.”

Tonks cackled as Sirius and Andromeda finally made their way over, a towering sundae floating in front of them.

“You’ll meet him soon enough.”


	37. King's Cross

**** Sirius and Remus saw him off at King’s Cross on September 1st. Harry had a new trunk, new clothes, and even new glasses. He and Remus had even ventured out into muggle London to buy a couple of contact lenses so Harry could switch if he wanted.

Remus hugged him tight on the platform. “Try not to get into trouble.”

Harry snorted, “I don't go looking for trouble, trouble usually finds me.”

Remus smiled sadly and mussed his hair up, “Write me every week, you hear me? Tell me if you need anything.”

“Yes, yes - I promise. Take care, Moony. I'll see you at Christmas!”

“You won't, but it's all right. There's always next year.” Remus sighed, fixing Harry’s afro back in place.

Harry looked up in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You’ll know why soon enough Harry - it’s to do with the surprise,” Remus smiled softly. “Now - say goodbye to Sirius before the train leaves.”

Harry nodded slowly but turned to Sirius, who engulfed him in a bear hug.

“Write me everyday Harold, I’m going to miss you - so much! I'll send you love from Niall and some cool things from the shop I promise -”

Remus coughed and Sirius let Harry go. “Always be aware Harry, don't let your guard down - think before you do anything and stay safe. Constant vigilance. You've got the mirror?”

Harry nodded solemnly. Sirius and Remus were always telling him to be careful when he went back to school. He didn’t know why, and they didn’t really have anything - ‘just a feeling’, Remus had said. He’d make sure to be careful.

“Good - use it to contact me and Moony anytime you need us.” Sirius cupped his cheek. “You’re not alone anymore Harry. You have us.”

“I know. Take care, Pads,” Harry said shyly and hugged his Godfather. 

“Take care Prongslet,” Sirius whispered into Harry's hair, “Now get on the train or it'll leave without you and McGonagall will have my head.”

Harry laughed and boarded the train, waving goodbye to his guardians. As the train left the station, Ron and Hermione caught up with him.

“Harry! How was the rest of your summer?” Ron asked.

“Pretty great, Sirius and Remus got Star Motors up and running, and I’ve been tinkering with cars and the like all summer. Oh and I met my aunt and cousin too!” Harry said brightly.

Hermione’s eyes widened as the three Gryffindors lurched through the train, looking for a compartment. “Your aunt and cousin? You went back to Privet Drive?”

“Oh, no - no,” Harry corrected, “I didn’t mean the Dursleys. I meant Sirius’ cousin and her daughter. Since Sirius is my guardian, they’re kind of like my cousins. Tonks - that’s my cousin - she’s an Auror!”

“That’s wizard Harry,” Ron exclaimed in awe. They finally found a compartment and settled down. As Ron set down his bag, the seam split and maroon robes spilled out onto the floor. 

“What on earth have you got dress robes for?” Hermione asked in derision. “Going somewhere fancy are you?”

Ron groaned, “I don’t know! Mum wouldn’t tell me what’s going on at Hogwarts this year. She made me bring them. I think they used to belong to my great uncle or something. Fred and George have nice proper ones - I don’t see why I have to wear this hideous thing.”

“I bought dress robes too. They wouldn’t tell me what for. But I do know that the Triwizard Tournament is being held at Hogwarts this year,” Harry said.

Hermione looked anguished. It seems she’d never heard of the tournament before. Harry quickly explained, “It’s a friendly tournament between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.”

“Ugh - Durmstrang’s got a horrible reputation. According to  _ An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe _ , it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts,” Hermione said sniffily.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” said Ron vaguely. “Where is it? What country?” 

“Well, nobody knows, do they?” said Hermione, raising her eyebrows. 

“Er - why not?” asked Harry, he knew for a fact that Durmstrang was in Bulgaria and Beauxbatons from France. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. 

“There’s traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets,” said Hermione matter-of-factly. 

“Come off it,” said Ron, starting to laugh. “Durmstrang’s got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?” 

“But Hogwarts is hidden,” said Hermione, in surprise. “Everyone knows that. Well, everyone who’s read  _ Hogwarts, A History _ , anyway.” 

“Just you, then,” said Ron. “So go on - how d’you hide a place like Hogwarts?”

“It’s bewitched,” said Hermione. “If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying  **danger, do not enter, unsafe** .” 

“So Durmstrang’ll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?” 

“Maybe,” said Hermione, shrugging, “or it might have Muggle repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they’ll have made it Unplottable -” 

“Come again?” 

“Enchanting a building so it doesn’t appear on any map,” Harry said. “My house has got that same charm.” Ron’s mouth made an ‘O’.

“And Beauxbatons is definitely in France - all their students speak French.” Harry added.

“I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “Somewhere very cold, because they’ve got fur capes as part of their uniforms.” 

“Ah, think of the possibilities,” said Ron dreamily. “It would’ve been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. Shame his mother likes him...” 

Harry rolled his eyes.

As the train steamed on through the storm, some of Harry’s friends popped their heads into the cabin. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan and Neville Longbottom crammed themselves into the compartment for a game of gobstones with Ron. They chatted about the World Cup and the coming Triwizard Tournament, which nobody seemed to know much about. When they alighted at Hogwarts, Ron suddenly realised something, “Malfoy didn’t come around to bother us.”

“What?” Hermione asked distractedly.

“He didn’t stick his pointy nose into the compartment this year. How odd.”

“Well, Malfoy hasn’t exactly been tormenting us lately has he? The last time he did was at the Shrieking Shack third year.”

Harry appeared uninterested so Ron shrugged it off, “Well, good riddance. Come on, I’m starving.”

-

The students clambered into their seats, still wet from the rain and additionally from Peeves the Poltergeist throwing water balloons at them. The Headmaster waited for them to quiet down.

“Good evening,” he twinkled down at the students. Some of them grumbled and Lee Jordan could be seen emptying his shoes of water.

The Sorting of the first years progressed, and Colin Creevey excitedly pointed out his younger brother Dennis amongst them. It was rare for two Muggleborns to come from the same family, which Harry found particularly interesting. Harry waved jovially at the little boy, who was wrapped in Hagrid’s moleskin cloak. It was much too large for him, and dragged like a curtain behind him. 

“He fell into the lake. Giant Squid pushed him back up,” Colin whispered in excitement. Harry muffled his laughter.

“Where’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” said Hermione, who was anxiously looking up at the teachers. “Maybe they couldn’t get anyone!” 

Finally, the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. 

“About time,” said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate. The students helped themselves to the feast eagerly.

“Aaah, ’at’s be’er,” said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato. 

“You’re lucky there’s a feast at all tonight, you know,” said Nearly Headless Nick, popping his head through the roast on the table. “There was trouble in the kitchens earlier.” 

“Why? Wha’ ’appened?” asked George - who was across Harry - through a sizable chunk of steak. Fred looked up, his cheeks round with meat. Harry rolled his eyes.  _ Weasleys _ . 

“Peeves, of course,” said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. “The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it’s quite out of the question, you know what he’s like, utterly uncivilized, can’t see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost’s council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down.” 

“Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something,” said Ron darkly. “So what did he do in the kitchens?” 

“Oh the usual,” said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. “Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits -” Hermione knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. 

“There are house-elves here?” she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. “Here at Hogwarts?” 

“Certainly,” said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. “The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred.” 

“I’ve never seen one!” said Hermione, and Harry geared up. 

“Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?” said Nearly Headless Nick. “They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fires and so on. I mean, you’re not supposed to see them, are you? That’s the mark of a good house-elf, isn’t it, that you don’t know it’s there?” 

Hermione stared at him. “But they get paid?” she asked. “They get holidays, don’t they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?” 

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. “Sick leave and pensions?” he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. “House-elves don’t want sick leave and pensions!” 

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her. 

“Oh c’mon, ’Er-my-knee,” said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. “Oops — sorry, ’Arry —” He swallowed. “You won’t get them sick leave by starving yourself!” 

“Slave labor,” said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. “That’s what made this dinner. Slave labor.” And she refused to eat another bite. 

“Treacle tart, Hermione!” said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. “Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!” But Hermione gave him a look so dark that he gave up. 

“Hermione, I know what you’re thinking, but this really isn’t slave labour,” Harry assured, “I promise. It’s a mutually beneficial agreement. House-elves like looking after people and homes. And wizards offer them anything they want in return. House-elves prefer to be paid in safety and a home but there are exceptions. By the way, they’d be offended if you didn’t eat your food, mark my words.” 

“They’ve been brainwashed into thinking that’s what they want,” Hermione scowled, and Harry sighed, knowing she was too stubborn to change her mind.

When the feast was over, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. 

“So!” said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.” 

The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. He continued, “As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.” 

“What?” Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. The girls seemed to be outraged and Angelina looked like she might start a riot right there.

Dumbledore went on, “This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -” 

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers’ table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the man’s face into sharp relief, and Harry recognised it immediately from Tonks’ pictures. This was Alastor Moody, her mentor and the great Auror. So that was what she meant, the sneaky -

Moody reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn’t hear. Moody sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. 

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. “Professor Moody.” 

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore, Hagrid and Harry. But the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly, Harry flushing when he realised he was alone in clapping. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody’s bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. Moody’s eye had fixed on Harry while he was awkwardly clapping, and he wondered if Tonks had ever told Moody about him. 

“Moody?” Hermione muttered to Ron. “Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?” 

“Must be,” said Ron in a low, awed voice. 

“What happened to him?” Hermione whispered. “What happened to his face?”

“Dunno,” Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination. 

“That’s my cousin’s mentor, he’s an Auror,” Harry whispered.

“Sweet,” the twins whispered back.

“As I was saying,” Dumbledore said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, “we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.” 

“You’re JOKING!” said Fred loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody’s arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. 

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,” he said, “The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago…”

Harry tuned out Dumbledore’s speech and looked at Moody. He should probably introduce himself, given how both Sirius and Tonks knew the man (Sirius from his time as an Auror before he’d been incarcerated).

“Death toll?” Hermione whispered in alarm, breaking Harry’s train of thought.

“There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.” Now this bit he hadn’t heard.

“I’m going for it!” Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. Harry bit his lip. The tournament was dangerous, and he didn’t particularly want any of his friends competing.

Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted. He explained that the Ministry had decided to impose an age limit of seventeen years on the tournament. There were noises of outrage at these words, and Fred and George looked suddenly furious.

“This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.” 

His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred’ and George’s mutinous faces. Dumbledore dismissed the students, then sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. 

“Who’s this impartial judge who’s going to decide who the champions are?” asked Harry. 

“Dunno,” said Fred, “but it’s them we’ll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George -” 

“Dumbledore knows you’re not of age, though,” said Ron. 

“Yeah, but he’s not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?” said Fred shrewdly. 

“Fred... people have _died_ in this competition,” said Harry cautiously.

“Yeah,” said Fred airily, “but that was years ago, wasn’t it? Anyway, where’s the fun without a bit of risk? What if we find out how to get ’round Dumbledore? Fancy entering, Harold?” 

“I don’t think so. I’ve had enough life and death experiences in my life as is.” Everyone winced at the reminder. “And I promised Remus I wouldn’t go looking for trouble.” 

“I definitely won’t,” came Neville’s gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. “I expect my gran’d want me to try, though. She’s always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I’ll just have to - oops!” Neville’s foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. Fred and George seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily. 

“Shut it, you,” said Harry, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, parted ways, and settled in for the night.


	38. The Courtyard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise? It's been a while (/: I do hope you'll all forgive me for this 9 month long hiatus. 
> 
> Warning for this chapter: smack talk - insults about weight, poverty, homosexuals and alcoholism are made. transfiguration of a person into an animal. Kind of animal abuse? and kind of abuse as well due to petty undeserved revenge. It's the bit where Draco gets turned into a ferret and Moody/Crouch flings him about. I do describe his injuries - mainly bruises. Safe reading!

“Weasley! Hey, Weasley!” shouted a nasally voice as Hermione, Ron and Harry crossed the courtyard. Ron looked up in confusion to see Theodore Nott smirking at him. 

“Nott? What do you want?”

“Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!” said Nott, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed courtyard could hear. Harry took the time Nott was reading the article aloud to wonder why Theodore Nott of all people suddenly seemed interested in tormenting them. He resolved to ask Draco later.

“Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?” Nott crowed. The whole courtyard seemed to be listening to him now.

“And there’s a picture, Weasley!” continued Nott, flipping the paper over and holding it up. “A picture of your parents outside their house — well, if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?” 

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. 

“Get stuffed, Nott,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron -” 

“You’re not any better are you Potter? Living with two homos, one a lunatic and the other a werewolf,” sneered Nott. “So tell me, how much does the wolf scream when Black -” 

“That’s enough Nott,” murmured Draco, who had stepped forward from where he'd been watching from the sidelines, trying to pull Nott away. Nott shook him off and smirked at the Gryffindors. Okay, Nott had officially entered ‘Not Cool’ territory.

“With Mummy not around, is Daddy not sober enough to listen to your whining?” Harry asked innocently, head cocked and eyes wide. It was a very low blow, but if Nott wanted to play dirty, Harry could too. He heard Pansy choke in the background (he’d have to thank her for telling him), and allowed a dangerous smile to cross his face. Nott had turned a distinct shade of red verging on purple.

Nott screamed, absolutely losing it, “Don’t talk about my parents, Potter!” 

“Don’t talk about mine, then,” said Harry simply, turning away. 

BANG! Several people screamed - Harry plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall. 

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!” Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Draco had been standing. Oh bugger. 

Nott was on the ground a distance away, almost like he’d been thrown aside. 

Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head. 

“Did he get you?” Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly. 

“No,” said Harry, “missed. But Professor -” 

“LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted. 

“Leave - what?” Harry said, bewildered. 

“Not you - him!” Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Vincent, who froze, just about to pick up the white ferret. Harry faintly registered Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head. Moody started to limp toward Vincent, Greg, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. 

“I don’t think so!” roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

Harry ran forward, "No! Wait -"

“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back is turned,” growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do...” The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. 

“NO! No, stop!” Harry shouted, he threw himself at Moody, but Ron and Hermione grabbed him and held him back. He struggled against them, furious, “That’s Malfoy! He’s innocent! Stop!”

“Never - do - that - again -” said Moody, enunciating each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again. 

“LET ME GO!” With a burst of magic, Ron and Hermione were thrown to the ground, and Harry pulled his wand out, just about ready to rip Moody’s head off, cousin’s mentor or not.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, and Moody’s wand came flying towards him. He let it fly past his head, paying it - and a stunned Moody - no mind. He ran to the ferret, who was breathing shallowly on the floor.

“Professor Moody!” 

“Professor McGonagall,” Moody acknowledged stiltedly, in apparent shock that a student had disarmed him.

“What - what did you do?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following Harry as he picked the ferret up gently. 

“I - uh - was teaching,” said Moody. 

“Teach - Moody, is that a student?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms. 

“It’s Draco Malfoy, Professor,” came an unknown voice from the crowd.

“Draco -!” choked Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco had reappeared, lying in Harry’s arms, with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly bruised face. Harry helped Draco to his feet, wrapping Draco’s arm around his shoulder and propping him up, unaware of their audience. Harry Potter, helping his enemy? What was going on?

“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Professor McGonagall weakly. “Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?” 

“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, “but I thought a good sharp shock -” 

“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!” she trilled indignantly.

“I’ll do that, then,” said Moody, staring at Draco with great dislike. Harry bristled.

“No you won’t!” Harry said angrily, and everyone’s eyes swivelled to him. “Draco was innocent, he did nothing wrong. It was Nott that shot the spell at me, and you went and got Draco instead! I told you and told you and you didn’t listen!” Harry breathed heavily and Draco groaned at his side. “I’m taking him to the hospital wing - and writing his mother.”

Harry glared at Moody, who seemed shocked at this turn of events. Harry walked off in the direction of the hospital wing, leaving raised voices behind them.

“How much pain are you in? Anything broken?” Harry asked anxiously. Draco groaned weakly in reply. He heard the slapping of feet against the ground and turned his head to see who it was. Pansy ran up to them and swung Draco’s other arm around her shoulder. The two of them managed to heft him all the way to the hospital wing.

“Honestly, McGonagall should’ve paid more attention to Draco instead of staying behind,” Harry grumbled. Draco’s head lulled on his shoulder and the boy breathed shallowly.

“She knows you’ve got him. She’ll be dealing with Moody and Nott as we speak,” Pansy said comfortingly.

They reached the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey gasped when she saw them. She hurriedly ushered them to an empty bed and waved her wand over Draco. Numerous blue lights lit up along his body.

“What in Merlin’s name happened? Mr Potter!”

“Professor Moody transformed him into a ferret and then flinging him all over the place,” Harry said angrily, “Draco was innocent. He didn’t do anything but Moody wouldn’t listen.”

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. “I’ll be having words with the Headmaster about this. Mr Malfoy is bruised all over, and he may have some internal injuries as well. Ms Parkinson, fetch me that tub there please.”

Pansy brought it to the Healer, who removed Draco’s shirt and started applying paste to certain red spots.

“Is he going to be all right Madam Pomfrey?” Pansy asked nervously.

“Yes, but he’ll have to stay here for a day at least,” the Healer answered. “The two of you should head back to class.”

“I’m writing to Lady Malfoy about this. She’d want to know. I expect she’ll turn up at Hogwarts soon,” Harry said. Madam Pomfrey nodded and shooed them away.

Harry and Pansy left in stormy silence. Harry spoke first. “I hope the Slytherins will give Nott what’s coming for him.”

“I’ll make sure they do. Draco will be welcomed back a hero I assure you - I’ll spin it so it’ll sound like Moody has bad aim,” Pansy growled. They walked in silence for a bit.

“See you later then?”

“‘Course. Don’t be too upset Harry. Let the adults handle this.”

They parted ways, and Harry headed up to his dorm. It was empty since everyone was at lunch. Harry supposed he could miss one meal. He deposited his knapsack by the bed and opened his trunk. He held up the mirror and called for Sirius. Sirius answered almost immediately, “Harry? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Draco,” Harry said, “Alastor Moody turned him into a ferret and threw him around a bit. He’s in the hospital wing now. Can you floo his mum? I think she’d want to know.”

“What? Of course, but - Moody? Really? Doesn’t sound like him. But I’ll go now. Take care, Harry.”

“You too.” Sirius went off and Harry stowed the mirror away. He sighed and grabbed his knapsack again. He wondered if he could sneak into the hospital wing tonight.


	39. The DADA Classroom

Draco was fine. His mother had stormed into Hogwarts, Lucius in tow, and fussed over him. She’d then marched up to Dumbledore’s office and demanded to see Moody. “She got right up into his face, threatened him with castration and left. Father seemed a bit afraid of Moody, I suppose because it’s because Moody captured him. I heard McGonagall tore into him for his prejudice,” Draco told the Silver Circle when they visited him in the hospital wing.

Pansy brought him news that cheered him up, “Nott got an ultimatum. The upper years are displeased with him. He’s at the lowest of the low right now, even lower than the first years.”

“It was a noble thing you did, pushing Nott aside like that,” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear when everyone else was distracted. Draco flushed. “I wasn’t thinking, it was stupid.”

“It was very Gryffindor of you,” Harry grinned. Draco grimaced, “You don’t have to be insulting about it.”

For the first time, Harry dreaded DADA classes. He hadn’t seen Moody ever since the ferret incident, and he doubted he could reign in his anger enough. Surprisingly, Moody seemed to hold no grudge against Harry. He acted as if Harry hadn’t disarmed and screamed at him just days ago, which puzzled Harry to no end.

“Right then,” Moody said, when the last person had declared themselves present, “I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class.” Harry perked up. 

“Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures — you’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?” There was a general murmur of assent. 

“But you’re behind - very behind - on dealing with curses,” said Moody. “So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -” 

“What, aren’t you staying?” Ron blurted out. 

Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time Harry had seen him do so. Ron looked deeply relieved. 

“You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh?” Moody said. “Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. Yeah, I’m staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore. One year, and then back to my Auror work. My intern must be bored out of her mind.” He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together. “So - straight into it. Curses…” 

Harry listened to his speech, and wondered what Tonks was doing whilst her mentor was teaching 14-year-olds. Wouldn’t her training be delayed at this point? Maybe she would be assigned to another Auror.

“So, do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?” 

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron’s and Hermione’s. Moody pointed at Ron.

“Er,” said Ron tentatively, “The Imperius Curse?”

“Ah, yes,” said Moody appreciatively. “Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.” Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, “Imperio!” The spider began to go through a series of tricks, tap-dancing and the like. The rest of the class was laughing, but Harry didn’t find it particularly funny. Being a puppet without a mind of your own? Didn’t sound particularly fun. Moody felt the same way. 

“Think it’s funny, do you?” he growled. “You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?” The laughter died away almost instantly. 

“Total control,” said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. “I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats...” Ron gave an involuntary shudder. 

“Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,” said Moody, “Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he barked, and everyone jumped.

“Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?” Hermione’s hand flew into the air again and so did Neville’s. Neville looked surprised at his own daring. “Yes?” said Moody, pointing at Neville with a gnarled finger. 

“The Cruciatus Curse,” said Neville in a small but distinct voice. Harry winced. Neville must feel awful. Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes. 

“Your name’s Longbottom?” he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again. Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Harry suspected Moody knew Neville’s parents. 

Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move. Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, “Crucio!” 

At once, the spider’s legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry could hear screaming in his head. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently. Harry looked over at Neville, and saw the horrified look on his face.

“Stop it,” he commanded in a murky voice, feeling his magic vibrate inside of him. The spider stopped twitching. Moody seemed confused, looking at his wand for a second, and looked to Harry in intrigue. But Harry wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Neville, whose hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. 

There was a beat of silence.

“Right... anyone know any others?” 

Harry knew. He knew all too well.

Hermione’s hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

“Yes?” 

“Avada Kedavra,” Hermione whispered.

“Ah,” said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. “Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra... the Killing Curse.” 

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody’s fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface. Moody raised his wand, and Harry closed his eyes. 

“ **_Avada Kedavra_ ** !” Moody roared. There was a flash of blinding green light and instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries while others looked away in fear.

“Not nice,” Moody said calmly. “Not pleasant. And there’s no countercurse. There’s no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.” 

Harry opened his eyes to meet Moody’s - both of them. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard.

That was how his parents had died: exactly like that spider. Harry had been picturing his parents’ deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since he’d found out they had been murdered, ever since he’d found out what had happened that night. The green light he used to see in his dreams - he had always thought it was a traffic light or something from the supposed ‘car crash’. But now, now he knew. Harry felt… numb.

Moody was speaking again, but his voice sounded muddy to Harry’s ears. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back and listened to what Moody was saying.

“Avada Kedavra’s a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I’d get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn’t matter. I’m not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there’s no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you’ve got to know. You’ve got to appreciate what the worst is. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation where you’re facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he roared, and the whole class jumped again. 

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang — but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices. 

They were talking about the lesson as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but he hadn’t found it very entertaining - and Neville didn’t seem to either. Hermione and Ron were having a whispered discussion behind him. Harry walked up to Neville.

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

“Neville?” Harry called. Neville looked around. 

“Oh hello,” he said, his voice much higher than usual. “Interesting lesson, wasn’t it? I wonder what’s for dinner, I’m - I’m starving, aren’t you?” 

“Neville, are you all right?” asked Hermione curiously. What a stupid question - oh - right. Hermione didn’t know about Neville’s parents.

“Oh yes, I’m fine,” Neville garbled in the same unnaturally high voice. “Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what’s for eating?” 

Harry frowned. Ron looked at Neville like he was bonkers. An odd clunking noise sounded behind them, signalling Professor Moody’s approach. 

“It’s all right, sonny,” he said in a gentle growl. “Why don’t you come up to my office? Come on, we can have a cup of tea...” 

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry. “You all right, are you, Potter?” 

“...No,” said Harry, like an afterthought. Hermione and Ron looked at him in surprise and even Moody seemed a bit unsure. Neville looked at Harry and - yes. There it was. They understood each other. Moody’s blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, “You’ve got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you’ve got to know. No point pretending… well… come on, Longbottom, I’ve got some books that might interest you. You too, Potter.” 

“I’ll see you two later,” Harry said to Ron and Hermione, and followed Moody and Neville along the hallway.

The odd trio walked towards Remus’ old office and entered to what seemed like standard issue furniture, nothing particularly cosy. Moody pushed Neville into a stiff armchair and went off to brew some tea as Harry slowly sat down on the armrest. Neville still seemed a bit dazed. 

“Nev? Hey, put your books down yeah?” Harry said soothingly. Neville nodded but made no move to do it so Harry pried the books from his fingers and put it on the coffee table in front of them. 

Moody limped out of the kitchen then, and he passed a cup to Neville and then Harry. He creakily sat down on a chair opposite and eyed the two of them.

“Drink your tea, Longbottom.”

Harry surreptitiously sniffed the tea, and when he didn’t smell anything funny, he drank. He could see Neville taking small sips as well. Honestly, Harry was fine. A bit shook up, but otherwise fine. He’d only said he wasn’t simply because he didn’t want to leave Neville alone. At least, that’s what he told himself.

When they’d finished their tea, Moody got up and limped over to his bookshelf, pulling out a thick leather-bound book. He placed it atop Neville’s book pile, and Harry read the title with interest.

“Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean?”

“Yes. Professor Sprout’s told me Longbottom here has a talent for Herbology. Thought you might like this,” Moody said gruffly. Neville put down his tea and picked up the book, his eyes lighting up, “Thank you, Professor Moody.”

Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said, Harry thought, was a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Remus would have done. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Moody waved him off. “Now, I think you two should get to dinner.”

“Right. C’mon Nev.” Neville nodded and picked up his books. They waved goodbye to the Professor and headed down to dinner. They were silent for a bit and then -

“Harry... are you really all right?”

“Yeah. As all right as I can be. Sucked to see, didn’t it?”

“... You know?”

“Yeah. We’re like family you know - you and me?” Harry admitted. Neville paused and his eyebrows rose, “What?”

“My mum and your mum, they were close friends. And Voldemort was after both of us, you see. He - he got to me before he got to you. And we all know how that went. According to my mum and dad’s will, if they died, I was to go to your parents, if Sirius and Remus were dead too. And if your parents died, you’d have come to us. So -” Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. “- we’re family, you and me.”

“Oh… wow. I never knew. Gran never mentioned anything.” Neville said.

“I only found out last summer,” Harry said, “The point is: I’m here for you Nev. Anytime you need me.”

“Thanks Harry. Same with me.” The two of them reached the Great Hall, and they plopped down at the Gryffindor table. Ron was sitting alone, Hermione presumably at the Library.

“Some lesson, eh?” said Ron to Harry as he and Neville sat down. “Fred and George were right, weren’t they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn’t he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just  _ died _ , just snuffed it right -” 

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry’s face and didn’t speak again.

“Wouldn’t Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we’d seen the curses? And isn’t it kind of weird that Moody  _ can  _ cast the Unforgivables?” Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady later. 

“Yeah, probably,” said Ron. “But Dumbledore’s always done things his way, hasn’t he, and Moody’s been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later. Besides, if Moody can cast Unforgivables, means he can give it back as good as he gets, innit?” 

Neville waved a distant goodnight, eyes already scanning the page of his new book. Harry and Ron sat down in the common room, and started on their divination homework.

Harry looked around the room, and saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was weird. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Lee wasn’t even there, so Harry doubted it was a prank. Did it have something to do with the tournament? Fred was so insistent on competing…

George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill. Then George looked over and saw Harry watching him. Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend, and George shook his head, eyeing Ron. Another time then.


	40. The Castle Entrance

When Harry, Fred and George arrived in the entrance hall on their way to meet The Silver Circle, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. 

The twins were considerably taller than most of the students and had no problem reading the sign out to Harry. 

“TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October,” read Fred.

“Lessons will end half an hour early -” continued George.

“Brilliant,” said Harry. “It’s Potions last thing on Friday - Snape won’t have time to poison me.” 

“Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast,” finished George.

“Only a week away!” said Ernie Macmillan, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. “I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I’ll go and tell him -” 

“Damn Diggory,” muttered Fred. The Gryffindor team were still bitter about their loss last year.

“He must be entering the tournament,” Harry said. 

“Him, Hogwarts champion?” complained George as they climbed up to the old Arithmancy classroom. 

“I’ve heard he’s a really good student - and he’s a prefect.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean Harold?”

“Has Harold got a crush?” Fred teased. Harry flushed. “I do not!”

“You only like him because he’s handsome,” said George mischievously.

“Because who’s handsome?” Draco asked loudly as the Gryffindors entered the classroom. Pansy snickered.

“Harold here seems to be rooting for Diggory to be Hogwarts champion!” Fred said in derision.

“Well, you must admit - he is very handsome,” said Blaise and Fred’s ears turned a bright scarlet. Everyone pretended not to notice.

“I don’t fancy Diggory all right? I’m just saying - he’s got a good chance! By the way, Fred, George, come on now lads, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fred said gloomily and George whacked his twin and threw himself onto a large cushion.

“All right. Remember how we won the bet at the Quidditch World Cup? We bet all our savings on it. That’s almost 30 galleons.”

“Well, when Bagman paid us our winnings, he paid us with Leprechaun gold -”

“Leprechaun gold? I take that it wasn’t a misunderstanding,” chimed in Blaise.

“It wasn’t,” Fred said darkly, “So we wrote Bagman, and he basically told us to sod off. Threatened to rat us out to the Ministry for underage gambling.”

“That’s bull,” Harry said indignantly. 

“He’ll get what’s coming,” Blaise scowled, and Fred smiled ruefully. They left it at that. 

When Harry went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, he found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. They were likely discussing Bagman again, so Harry quickly changed the topic of discussion. 

“I hope you two aren’t talking about entering the Championship,” Harry said, dreading their answer.

“I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn’t telling,” said George bitterly. “She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon.” 

“Wonder what the tasks are going to be?” said Ron thoughtfully. “You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We’ve done dangerous stuff before.” 

“Nope, never in a million years. I’d rather just watch it all - I want a quiet life, you know me,” Harry said, and the twins laughed at his dreamy expression.

“Anyway, Ronniekins, this tournament is different. It requires some sort of finesse -” (“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”) “McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they’ve done the tasks.” 

“Who are the judges?” Harry asked. 

“Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,” said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised. She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, “It’s all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book’s not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School.” 

“What are you on about?” said Ron.

“House-elves!” said Hermione, her eyes flashing. “Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!” 

Ron rolled his eyes and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione. “Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?”

“No, of course not,” said Hermione curtly, “I hardly think students are supposed to -” 

“Well, we have,” said George, indicating Fred, “loads of times, to nick food. And we’ve met them, and they’re happy. They think they’ve got the best job in the world -”

“That’s because they’re uneducated and brainwashed!” Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Harry looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring toward him. He grinned. This would be the first time he was getting letters from home. 

Hedwig crooned happily as Harry untied the package and letters from her legs. He opened the letter:

_ Dearest Harold,  _

_ How we’ve missed you at home! Everything’s going fine, we’re glad to hear you’ve resolved the whole thing with Moody.  _

_ Remus has asked me to remind you about bringing your bag everywhere and to be careful. Hope Snivellus hasn’t tried to poison you yet. _

_ Niall keeps pestering me about where you are, which is a dreadful thing honestly, that I have to crush his tiny heart. When you come home, perhaps do something with the boy. He’s driving me up the wall!  _

_ Anywho, we’ve sent you some chocolates and Muggle snacks. Oh, and Dora will be at Hogwarts for the tournament! Andromeda sends her love as well.  _

_ Love, _

_ Pads and Moony. _

Harry grinned and pocketed the snacks into his haversack. There was a lively air about Hogwarts - everyone was anticipating the arrival of the other schools that evening. It was all very exciting, and Harry looked forward to it.


	41. The Great Hall

“I don’t believe it!” Ron wheezed as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. “Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!” 

“He’s only a Quidditch player,” said Hermione snootily.

“Only a Quidditch player?” Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn’t believe his ears. “He’s one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!” 

Lee was jumping up and down to get a better look at the back of Krum’s head. Fred and George were clutching each other and mock fainting. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked. 

“I don’t even have a quill -” 

“I’ve got lipstick!” 

“ _ Really _ ,” Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

“I’m getting his autograph if I can,” said Ron. “You haven’t got a quill, have you, Harry?” 

“Nope, but I’ve got a pen rattling around my bag somewhere,” said Harry. 

“A what?”

“A pen. It’s a muggle quill. And you don’t have to dip it in ink.”

“Oh. That’s brilliant!”

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Draco, Vince and Greg looked absolutely thrilled. Harry pursed his lips to keep himself from smiling at the looks on their faces. 

As he watched, Draco bent forward to speak to Krum, eyes practically shining. Harry narrowed his eyes at them. 

“Yeah, that’s right, smarm up to him, Malfoy,” said Ron scathingly. Harry looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

Up at the staff table, Filch was adding chairs. Harry was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore’s. 

“There are only two extra people,” Harry murmured. “Why’s Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?” 

“Eh?” said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum. 

“Good evening,” said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.” 

One Beauxbaton girl gave a muffled snort and Harry bristled, feeling a twang of annoyance. A loud smacking sound resounded and the girl squeaked suddenly, prompting all eyes to turn to her. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her, but she grew very red. Harry blinked. That was odd.

“The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” said Dumbledore, chuckling and bringing everyone’s attention back to him. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!” 

The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign. 

“What’s that?” asked Ron, pointing at some sort of stew.

“Bouillabaisse,” said Hermione. 

“Bless you,” said Ron. Harry snickered.

“It’s French,” said Hermione, “I had it on summer holiday. It’s very nice.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

At that moment, a voice said, “Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?” 

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore’s speech and promptly been the victim of some indignant prank. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. 

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. 

“Bless you,” Harry muttered in disgust and across him, Neville snorted. “Yeah, take it,” he said, pushing the dish toward the girl. 

“You ’ave finished wiz it?” 

“Yeah,” Ron said breathlessly. “Yeah, it was excellent.” 

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses. 

“She’s a Veela!” he said hoarsely to Harry. 

“No she’s not!” said Hermione tartly. “I don’t see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!” 

“You might want to reconsider that statement, Hermione...” Harry trailed off in amusement. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys’ heads turned, as well as a couple of girls, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron. 

“She’s a Veela!” Ron insisted, leaning sideways so he could get a clear view of her. “They don’t make them like that at Hogwarts!” 

“They make them just fine at Hogwarts,” said Harry quickly, before Hermione got offended. The girl did look quite a bit like Draco. He supposed it was the blonde hair.

“When you’ve put your eyes back in,” said Hermione briskly, “you’ll be able to see who’s just arrived.” 

Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff’s other side, while Mr. Crouch was next to Madame Maxime. 

“What’s he doing here?” Harry said in disgust. He looked over at Fred and George who hadn’t noticed Bagman. He picked up a roll of bread and threw it at Fred. Fred yelped as it hit his head and looked up, eyes lighting in mischief. 

“Harry! Are you mad? Don’t start a food fight!” Hermione hissed. Harry paid her no heed as he nodded his head up at the staff table. Fred’s happy expression turned stormy and he nudged George. The two of them spent most of the feast glaring up at Ludo Bagman.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Several seats down, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration, instead of glaring at Bagman. 

“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. “The Triwizard Tournament shall begin soon. Allow me to explain a few things before we bring in the casket -”

*

“An Age Line!” Fred said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. “Should be able to fool it with an Aging potion. And once your name’s in that goblet, it can’t tell whether you’re seventeen or not!” 

“No one under seventeen will stand a chance,” said Hermione, “you just haven’t learned enough.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense even though Cedric and I have been learning the same course material for the past six years. But I guess he gets to enter because he was born a couple months earlier than I was,” said George sarcastically. Hermione flushed.

“Where is he?” said Ron, who wasn’t listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. “Dumbledore didn’t say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?” 

*

The next day was Saturday, but instead of sleeping in, Hogwarts students seemed perfectly capable of getting up nice and early. Harry rubbed his eyes blearily as Ron dragged him and Hermione down to the entrance hall.

“Anyone put their name in yet?” Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly. 

“All the Durmstrang lot,” she replied. “But I haven’t seen anyone from Hogwarts yet.” 

“Ugh. They’re morning people. Gross,” Harry grumbled. Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited. 

“Done it,” Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry. “Just taken it.” 

“What?” said Ron. 

“The Aging Potion, dung brain,” said Fred. 

“One drop each,” said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. “We only need to be a few months older.” 

“We’re going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins,” said Lee, grinning broadly. 

“Guys -” Harry started in anxiety. Hermione cut him off.

“It’s not going to work,” said Hermione warningly. “Dumbledore will have thought of this.” 

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her. Harry sighed.

“Ready?” Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. “I’ll go first.”

Harry watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words ‘Fred Weasley - Hogwarts’. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line. For a split second Harry thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, he yelled in triumph and leapt after Fred - but next moment, both twins were hurled out of the circle. 

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once Harry and Lee helped them get to their feet. They’d taken a good look at each other’s beards and hunched over, breathless with laughter.

“I did warn you,” said Professor Dumbledore, coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. “I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey.”

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee and Harry, who were howling with laughter. Ron and Hermione looked conflicted between following Harry and eating breakfast and he waved them off jovially, “Go on, it’s too early for my stomach anyway.”

They passed Angelina on the way to the Hospital Wing. She smiled nervously at them and chuckled at Fred and George’s beards. 

“Angie!” George called, “You going to put your name in?”

“Yep, birthday was last week,” She rubbed her hands together nervously.

“I’m glad someone from Gryffindor’s entering,” said Harry. “I really hope you get it, Angie!”

“Thanks Harry! Root for me, eh?” She grinned and clapped Harry’s shoulder. The four of them set out for the hospital wing again, and Madam Pomfrey tutted at Fred and George when they staggered in.

“I was expecting the two of you. Surprised you weren’t the first ones here!”

The next hour was spent playing Exploding Snap while they waited for the beards to fall off. Breakfast was nearly over by then, so Harry, Fred, George and Lee went down to the kitchens to eat. Lee left them a while later to go chat up Alicia Spinnet, and the three of them set out to find the Slytherins.

They found them sitting in the courtyard, and George crafted a paper crane to fly down to Pansy. Pansy picked it up discreetly and moved away from the larger crowd of Slytherins. Draco, Blaise, Vince and Greg followed.

The Silver Circle gathered in the old Arithmancy classroom and Fred literally pounced on Pansy - dropping them onto a large beanbag - for information about the contestants. Pansy squirmed out from under him and fixed her hair in annoyance before she spoke.

“Your Quidditch teammate Angelina Johnson, Cedric Diggory, the whole of the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang lot. Warrington from Slytherin put his name in too. He’s a bit on the slow side, but he’s got a lot of physical strength. And Jade Dawlish from Ravenclaw.”

“Warrington’s kind of a jerk,” Harry said from his spot next to Draco. Draco was absentmindedly playing with Harry’s hair as he read his Charms text. Pansy snorted. “That’s an understatement, but what can you do? If the Goblet says he’s worthy, then he must have at least some talent in him.”

Blaise flopped his head into Fred’s lap and poked at his chin, “I see you are clean shaven now Mister Weasley.”

Fred chortled. “Had to wait a whole hour for it to come off. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t allow us to shave.” He rubbed his chin, “I wouldn’t have minded the beard honestly.”

“I would’ve, you would look like Dumbledore, and that would be weird,” Blaise whined. Vince choked on his meat pie. Where did he even get them from?

The Silver Circle talked and laughed into the late afternoon. Harry shared some of his chocolates from home, which quickly disappeared into Vince’ and Greg’s stomachs. The bell chimed for dinner and the group of them trudged out the door, George and Greg wrestling each other down the hallway to their amusement.

Fred, George and Harry took their seats at the Gryffindor table. “Hope it’s Angelina,” said Fred, and Hermione nodded in excitement, “So do I! We’ll know soon enough.”

Once the Halloween feast was over, Dumbledore stood up, “It is time. When the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” - he indicated the door behind the staff table - “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

“Any second now,” muttered Harry. He really hoped Angelina got it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are about to get interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still in the process of writing out this monstrosity of a fic, so please bear with me. If all else fails and I'm too tired to carry on, I will be posting my completed outline of how this story would have gone. So, no worries that this will be abandoned and you'll never know how it ends.
> 
> Find me on my [hp sideblog](https://twinsleys.tumblr.com/)


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